Chapter 11

“We’ll talk.” He was bold enough to kiss my cheek. “Sorry.” Then he took it back.

“I always had this fantasy we’d pick up where we left off someday.” I was bold, too.

“Sex in your kitchen?”

“Oh.” I must have looked as panicked as I felt.

“I was joking. I’m just not as good at it as you are. I’m happy to talk. I…I’d like that. Three years, it’s a little ridiculous. A lot can happen in that amount of time. I’m not sure we can…start from back there, really, you know?”

“Yeah.” Was he telling me he had a husband, kids, a mortgage, and a dog? I’d gotten my hopes up, just like that, all over again. Stupid moron!

“I have to finish dispensing the suppertime meds. See you in thirty.”

I watched him walk away. He looked as good in scrubs as in sweats. By the time I headed for the staff room a half an hour later, I’d told half a dozen senior citizens my life story, and also convinced myself I should just go. I hadn’t, but I was certain I would end up wishing I had. “So…”