“Nothing. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with it. It’s the best fucking smile in the universe. But you know what that kind of smile says to a man like me across a restaurant? It says, I will devastate you, you poor schmuck. And then there you were. The most gorgeous woman in the entire restaurant, on the entire block, in the entire goddamn borough, and you were sitting down to dinner with me. Fried-chicken suit and all.” He pressed at his forehead again, trying to smooth away the ache. “I said the first thing that came to mind. It was fucking stupid. I immediately regretted it. I had no idea it would shape our entire relationship.”

“You...you mean that you meant that literally? You weren’t calling me old? You were saying that you were literally expecting someone younger?”

“It’s not an excuse. It was a rude thing to say, and I wanted to staple my mouth closed the second I said it. But yes. I meant it literally. I don’t care about our age difference, Mary. It’s negligible anyways. Only six years.”

“But...” She looked deeply confused. “I heard you tell Tyler that we’re in different stages of our lives. Like I was three moves away from winding up in an old folks’ home.”

“That’s what you took from that statement? Oh, God.” He threw his arms up at the universe. “I have the worst freaking luck for you to have overheard that. No. That is not what I meant. I was standing in your beautiful kitchen, staring at your hanging collection of copper pots when I said that.”

“What do my pots have to do with anything?”

“I have one cast-iron pan, Mary. One. And I use it for literally everything. I have one sharp knife. Four cups. Two mugs—”

“So?!”

“So? What I mean is that you’re in this place in your life where you can host dinner parties in your two-bedroom apartment. I mean, my God, you had a candle the size of my forearm next to your gigantic bathtub. You probably drink red wine in that bathtub and listen to audiobooks. Mary, I don’t even have air-conditioning! My big splurge last year was Ruth. A rescue cat! We’re at different stages of our lives. That’s what I meant. You’re a put-together, affluent woman. I’m still scrambling to pay off my student loans. It has nothing to do with age. It has everything to do with who we are.”

He was starting to deflate. He’d never expected to lay it all out like this to Mary. He’d never even wanted to.

John strode over to his couch and plunked down. He lowered his forehead to his fingertips and rubbed at the ache.