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Milo glances over at me and registers the annoyance on my face. “Have you heard from your mom?”

I nod wordlessly as I look out the window, not wanting to talk about her.

I’d rather talk about how he referred to me as his girlfriend back at the store, but I’m sure he was just saying it to the saleslady because it simplified things.

I’ve never actually had a real boyfriend. I was “seeing” a boy when I was 14, and of course I’ve gone on some dates, but nothing ever stuck.

“Have you had a lot of girlfriends since your wife died?”

He glances over at me. “No.”

“Have you been in love again since her?”

He takes a moment before answering. “No.”

“Think you ever will?”

Again, he’s quiet for a moment. Probably weighing what he wants to say to the girl who just had his cock down her throat, but I just want him to be honest. I obviously like him whether I want to or not. I just want to know how likely it is he might ever feel the same way.

“You can be honest,” I say when the silence gets to be too much. “I’m not trying to be clingy or anything, I was just wondering how you feel about it. Plenty of guys move on in the blink of an eye, but you obviously haven’t. I was just wondering if it’s something you’re even open to.”

“I was planning to answer, I was just trying to figure the answer out. I know what you mean about how a lot of men move on quickly. I’ve had friends over the years who got divorced, one whose wife died, and they did that. The one whose wife died remarried less than a year later. The divorced ones all got girlfriends who were polar opposites of the wives they had spent years of their lives with. And then there was me. I didn’t feel like doing any of that. I was heartbroken and lost. Her death was so sudden, so entirely unexpected, I couldn’t change my state of mind in a snap like that. We were married. We were supposed to grow old together. Of course I wasn’t open to ever falling in love with anyone but her ever again. But then she was gone, and eventually, I had to accept that. Moving on takes time, at least it did for me. I wasn’t worried about feeling good again as quickly as possible. I think that’s often the motivation when someone can’t handle being alone. I let myself sink into it, and then I climbed out. I spent time with my boys, and we all grieved and got back to life when it felt like we were ready.”

“Is that when you decided to start dating again?”

He shakes his head, watching the road. “Not really. It was a while longer. I had to get back to feeling single again. For a long time, I still felt married, just without a wife. Once I felt single again, that’s when I started dating.”

“But you never fell in love.”

He shakes his head without saying a word.

“Have you ever been close?”

His gaze flickers to me, something I can’t quite place in his eye. I may not be able to nail it down, but I take it to mean he’s not enjoying this conversation.

Which I guess is fair.

I decide not to make him answer that one.

Instead, I dig my phone back out of my purse and plug his AV cord into it so my phone plays on his speakers.

“What are you doing?” he asks cautiously as he looks over at me.

“I’m going to play some good music for you.”

“Oh, God,” he says on a playful groan.

I grin. “You’re gonna love it. Trust me.”

“I’m too old to listen to anything you consider good music.”

“Hey, give it a chance, you might like it.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” he says, but he’s smiling again, and that makes me happy.

I scroll to one of my favorite playlists, one packed full of current music he’s going to hate so much, but I have that Metallica song I liked on here, too. I want to see how surprised he is when it starts to play, but first, he must suffer through Olivia Rodrigo’s jilted wrath and aching heart.

___

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