The pimps of the medical world, he said, tapping on the orange pill bottle on the book’s cover.

I turned to meet his eye.

Well, then. I cringe to think of what that makes me.

Adam let his hands drop to his sides then. He closed his eyes for a beat and then looked at me, head tilted.

You wouldn’t happen to be a—

Forgiving person?

I was going to say surgeon. See, he said, pointing to his mouth, I’ve got this foot I need removed.

He asked what time my flight was and if I had time for him to buy me a cup of coffee. I said no, but later saw him standing at my gate. We were boarding the same flight, both of us headed home to New York City. Adam was returning from a college reunion, and I had just given a presentation at a conference.

Adam made easy conversation. He was smart and witty. He made me laugh and seemed genuinely embarrassed about the bookstore comment. He was impressed with my job but didn’t feel the need to tell me he could’ve gotten into medical school if he’d wanted to or talk up the rigors of his profession. He seemed comfortable.

We boarded the plane, and Adam took his seat five rows behind me. I could feel his eyes on the back of my head. Just before the doors closed, Adam walked up the aisle and asked the man seated next to me if he would mind switching seats.

We’re old classmates and haven’t seen each other in years, he said to the man, who shrugged and accepted Adam’s aisle seat. Adam and I sat shoulder to shoulder, thousands of feet above the ground, chatting about our favorite places in New York City, the sorry state of health care, and the likelihood of finding life on other planets in the next few decades.

Aryana, he said as we walked through the passageways of LaGuardia Airport, got any other trips coming up?

Before Adam, I’d dated only a handful of guys. School and residency didn’t leave much time or energy. I rarely made it past three dates with anyone. Usually about halfway through the second date, I would find myself making a mental list of everything I would be happier doing instead of forcing small talk over fajitas.

Adam caught me by surprise. He suggested we go bowling on our second date even though he’s a terrible bowler. Two dates turned into four, then eight. He didn’t need to know everything about me all at once. I told Adam that Mom had adopted me when I was very young. I told him about her work at the State Department and all the many places I’d been with her. He liked hearing about her job, and I liked that he found her impressive.