She gives me a small smile. “You are.”
I stand up. I want to kiss her, but I don’t know if I’m allowed to.
She seems to understand because she walks to me and straightens the collar of my shirt. “You look good.”
“So do you.”
Her hands pause on my chest. “You look tired too.”
I force a smile. “I’m fine.”
Her eyes narrow, and I know she doesn’t believe me, but she doesn’t push.
We get in the car a few minutes later. The dinner is at a restaurant across town, and I try to focus on the road in front of us instead of my day at the hospital.
Aria is quiet for the first few minutes, but I can feel her watching me. Finally, she says, “Penn.”
“Yeah?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
She shakes her head. “Don’t do that.”
I grip the steering wheel a little tighter.
She turns in her seat. “Please don’t do that with me tonight.”
The softness in her voice makes it worse.
I keep my eyes on the road. “I lost a patient today.”
Aria gasps. “Oh, Penn.”
I swallow hard. “It happens.”
“I know it happens. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”
I don’t say anything.
She reaches across the console and puts her hand on my arm. “Pull over.”
I glance at her. “What?”
She says it again. “Pull over.”
“Aria—”
“Please.”
I signal and pull into the parking lot of a small closed shop. As soon as the car is in park, she unbuckles her seat belt and turns toward me. “Forget this,” she says.
I stare at her. “What?”
She shrugs. “The dinner. We’ll skip it.”
I shake my head, already about to put the car in drive again. “No.”
