Her eyes reviewed my face, trying to place me in her memory. It was excruciating, because to me, she looked exactly the same. Her face, the pale lips, the firm confidence in how she held her jaw. Her voice, soft and musical, making you lean in close to hear her. The uneven blond-brown ends of her hair. I was madly in love with this woman, and she didn’t know me at all.

“Your friend Sarah introduced us,” I added. “I’m . . . Dylan Moran.”

At the sound of my name, something changed in her expression. She blinked; her pupils dilated. Her eyes reappraised me with an odd curiosity. She looked uncomfortable, and I wasn’t sure why. Had something happened on that date that I didn’t know about?

“Dylan,” she murmured. “That was you? The blind date?”

“That was me.”

“I’m sorry. I do remember now. It’s just that my life is sort of Before and After, and that was Before.”

“We went to a club that night, didn’t we? I don’t even remember which one.”

“The Spybar,” Karly replied without hesitation.

“Right, of course. Well, I’m sure that went really well. I have a reputation for being the world’s worst dancer.”

“You’re probably being hard on yourself,” she said generously.

“Oh, I doubt it. Anyway, I’m ten years late in apologizing.”

“That’s not necessary. I went into it with the wrong attitude. I hate blind dates.”

“Same here.”

We’d had our exchange of pleasantries. Now it was time for me to walk away. But there was still so much to tell her.

I’m your husband.

I love you.

You’re in danger.

I couldn’t say any of that, but I also couldn’t let meaningless small talk be my last conversation with Karly.

“I’ve read your poems,” I added.

“Oh?”

“Your book. Portal. In fact, after I bought it, I read it four times in a row.”

“Four times. Are you a masochist?”

I smiled. That was such a Karly thing to say. “Actually, your poems are very eloquent, but they made me sad.”

“Sad? I don’t hear that very often. I hear disgusting. Gross. Satanic. But sad is a new one.”

“They made me sad because when I read them, I realized what I missed,” I told her.

“I don’t understand.”

“I had a date with someone who was obviously very deep, thoughtful, complicated, and talented, and I didn’t get to know her at all.”

Karly took a sip of tea as she reflected on what I’d said. I wasn’t trying to flatter her. I was being sincere. If she was still the woman I loved, she’d recognize that.

After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “Do you want to sit down?”

“I would. Thank you.”