I stared at it.
Then typed:
No. But I would like to know about your business loan.
The little dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Finally:
Rebecca told you.
Yes.
Can we talk tonight?
Yes.
He arrived at seven carrying nothing.
No flowers.
No groceries.
No attempt to soften the conversation.
That gave me hope.
We sat on the balcony.
The Arizona evening was cool, and below us people moved between restaurants and shops.
Daniel rubbed his hands together.
“I should have told you.”
“Yes.”
“I was going to.”
“When?”
He looked at me.
“I don’t know.”
“Then you weren’t going to.”
He sighed.
“Probably not.”
I appreciated the answer.
“What business?”
He leaned back.
“Consulting.”
“You already consult.”
“For someone else.”
He explained.
For nearly fifteen years, Daniel had worked for a healthcare technology firm. He earned well, traveled occasionally, complained about management, and stayed because stability seemed sensible with two children and a mortgage.
Two years earlier, a colleague named Marcus had approached him about starting a small consulting company specializing in software transitions for medical offices.
Daniel invested savings.
Then more savings.
Then he personally guaranteed a modest business line of credit.
The company was not failing.
