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Brady went behind me and helped take off my coat.

“Thank you.”

After he hung it up, he pulled out a chair at the dining room table. “Come. Sit. We have three courses.”

I took a seat while Brady went to the kitchen. Even though I could see him working the corkscrew into a bottle of wine, I still jumped when the loud pop came. That cork had nothing on how tightly I was wound this evening.

Brady poured us each a glass of chardonnay and brought out a tray of appetizers. It was a huge antipasto assortment with all of my favorites.

“Are you sure it’s not my birthday?” I laughed nervously. “You’re the one serving me, and this is my favorite food, not yours.”

He smiled and sat down across from me. “Whatever makes you smile is my favorite food.”

Where had this Brady been the last few years? “That’s very sweet.”

We dug into the appetizer, and I guzzled my wine pretty fast. My nerves were frazzled.

“So…” Brady set down his fork and wiped his mouth. “I’ve been thinking about this apartment.”

“Oh? What about it?”

“Well, my lease is up in two months, and I don’t think I’m going to renew.”

“Really? I’m surprised. You love it here. Do you want to be closer to the office or something?”

Brady reached over and took my hand. “I want to be closer to you.”

“Brady, I…”

He squeezed my hand. “Let me finish. I know you aren’t ready to move in with me…yet. And we’d planned to live here after our wedding. But your work is in Connecticut. You have to lug equipment and stuff around with you, which isn’t easy on trains. It would make more sense for me to be the one to commute.”

Wow. He was really trying.

“Plus, I’d like to be able to see you more than just on the weekends. So if I live closer to you, we can spend more time together.” He winked. “Might even speed up the process of me winning you back.”

I didn’t want him to uproot his life for me, since every day it became clearer that things might not pan out for us. “Where would you live?”

“I’m sure I could get an apartment somewhere near you.” He flashed a sheepish smile. “Unless you wanted a roomie, maybe.”

Seeing the look on my face, Brady chuckled. “Okay, so not ready to be roomies yet. I get it. I can start looking for my own place—unless you don’t even want me in the same state as you.”

I shook my head. “It’s not that. It’s just a lot. It’s a big change. Can you give me some time to think about it?”

He nodded and tried to pretend I hadn’t hurt his feelings, though it was clear I had. “Sure.”

We made it through dinner without any more major bumps in the road. But the pressure I felt was enormous. Brady wanted to change his life for me. It wasn’t fair to let him do that if things were coming to an end. So while we made conversation and even laughed a few times, our situation really weighed on my shoulders.

After a delicious meal, we cleaned up together. Brady washed the dishes, and I dried. It might’ve been the first time I’d ever seen him use a sponge. At one point, I was standing in the dining room, wiping down the counter that separated the dining and kitchen areas, and Brady was on the other side, wrapping a tray of food in foil.

I found myself staring. Could I be with him again?

Did I love him still?

If I didn’t, had I ever?

Can you just fall out of love in a few months?

I remembered the day I met him. I’d been taking photos at a Coldplay concert. One of my duties was to snap pictures of the audience. Usually I’d find some girl on a guy’s shoulders with her arms in the air, or a group of guys thrashing around in a mosh pit—something that captured the essence of the show. But that day, when I was scanning through the audience with my lens, I landed on a cute guy staring right back at me. He smiled and waved. I snapped a few pictures just because he was so easy on the eyes and smiled back. But the concert was coming to an end, so a few minutes later I went backstage. I’d forgotten all about the cute guy by the time I finished for the night. After the concert, I stuck around to hang out with the band and take some candid photos while they celebrated. The parking lot was long empty by the time I walked out at nearly two AM.

Except for Brady. There he was, standing right at the front door, waiting.

We wound up going to a nearby diner and talking until the sun came up that morning. When I’d asked him how he knew I was still there, since he’d waited for so many hours, he’d shrugged and said he didn’t. But he was willing to put in the time on the off chance he’d get to see me again.

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