“And she’s progressive. At least on things that matter to me. That’s what’s most important to me,” Camille says.

From the corner of my eye, I see Micky’s son has clocked me. The first time I went to Micky’s house and he was there, he flushed so red I thought his skin would remain that color forever. The entire table turns to me now. I give them a sheepish wave.

“Here we go,” I say.

“I look forward to it.” Camille shoots me a confident smile. It makes her look so utterly gorgeous, I want to just leave the Pink Bean and go back to the apartment. I want to do all day what we did last night. Repeat performance after repeat performance. Goodness, she’s beautiful.

“Morning,” Micky says a bit too chirpily. She holds a hand out to Camille. “I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself properly yesterday. I’m Micky. I work here on weekdays.” She points her thumb behind her. “That’s my family over there.”

Camille gives her a very charming smile while taking Micky’s hand in hers. “Very nice to meet you, Micky.”

“Chris is about to faint again,” she says to me. “He has a huge crush on Zoya,” she adds as an aside to Camille. “But it’s better than him having a crush on my girlfriend, I guess. Which I believe he had when I first introduced them.” She rolls her eyes. “Teenagers and their hormones.”

“Oh, I know all about that. I have a nineteen-year-old son,” Camille says.

It makes me realize we’ve barely talked about her children and her life back home.

“All I can say is, don’t ever show him a picture of Zoya Das,” Micky jokes.

“I won’t.” Camille winks at me.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Micky says and—thankfully—saunters back to her family.

“Guess who was still in the closet less than a year ago after divorcing her husband?” I say.

“It seems to be a very common occurrence all around the globe.”

I nod. “When I first came out, you would not believe how much mail I got from women who were in Micky’s—and your—situation. Women feeling trapped in their marriage. Not knowing how to break free from a choice they made decades ago. More often than not, children are involved, complicating it all so much more.”

“And look at Micky now,” Camille says and glances over at Micky’s table.

“According to Josephine, she’s obnoxiously happy now.”

“I’m pretty happy right now.” Camille tilts her head. “As long as I get to spend the day with you.”

“That can easily be arranged. I can even make it so I don’t have anything to do tomorrow either.”

“Really?” Camille’s voice grows husky.

“But I insist on showing you at least some of the sights.”