“Thank you. I hate it, too. I hate it for everyone who loved him and all the others who were lost that day. I hate it for him because his life was just getting started, and it was snuffed out by people with no regard for what a gift life is to all of us. I hate a lot of things about it, but more than anything, I hate when people look at me and only see my tragedy.”

He thought about that for several quiet minutes.

Jenny took a sip of her Diet Coke and waited to hear what he would say.

“You said it was the first time that mattered. Why do you suppose that is?”

“I don’t know, but it’s been different from the beginning with you. I’m almost afraid to say that, because it’s awfully revealing. And the last thing I want to do is put more pressure on you at a time when you have more than enough to contend with.”

“I don’t feel pressured. I feel honored that you care enough to tell me yourself before I heard it from someone else. I appreciate that you told me what you don’t want, and I get that, too. I hate that everyone here thinks of me as the guy whose mother has dementia. Those things have a way of defining a person.”

“Yes,” she said with a sigh of relief. “Exactly.”

“It was why I liked that you didn’t know who I was at first or what I was dealing with. There was comfort in the anonymity.”

“For me, too. My friends have been fixing me up on dates, and I know the guys are fully prepped, and it’s sweet of my friends to see to that. But I liked it so much better that you didn’t know.”

“I was rough with you.”

“No, you weren’t. You were perfect. If the next time is different, I won’t be happy with you.”

That drew a short laugh from him. “I stand warned.” He looked up at her. “You’re amazing.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You’ve survived the worst possible thing, and you’re still able to laugh and joke and tease and smile so brightly you make me ache. If I say you’re amazing, you’re amazing.”

Deeply touched by his kind words, she said, “It took a really, really long time to be able to do any of those things.”

“I’m sure it did.” He kissed her hand, setting off a firestorm on the surface of her skin with only the rough brush of his whiskers. “Do you feel better after telling me about it?”

“I do. I felt bad last night that I didn’t tell you when you asked me about him. You told me about your family and your mom. It didn’t seem fair that I was unwilling to do the same.”