“Wow, I’m talking a lot.” I clammed up, embarrassed. I couldn’t believe I had spiraled into conversation about the drug epidemic and everything. My cheeks flushed.

He looked over at me.

“It’s cool. I like hearing your take on the world.” His voice was so soft.

Who was this guy? So patient, so reserved, yet so in touch with the moment. I tried to imagine his friends, the lucky people who actually got to know him. Like Phillip, Elodie’s husband. Phillip was buoyant and friendly, and Kael . . . well, I didn’t know what the hell to think of him.

My brother was the only person I’d had to share reminiscences of my parents with. He had an aversion to reliving our childhood, and he no longer wanted to dwell on that part of our lives, but not me—well, I lived in the past most of the time. Even so, I’d never had this type of conversation with anyone other than Austin.

“My take on life?” I repeated. “You’ve heard enough about that. What’s your life like?” The light turned green. I wished it would have stayed red for another minute, another hour, maybe even an entire day.

He looked a little perplexed.

“There isn’t much to say. My life is that of a soldier. I live alone. Sleep and wake up alone. Go to war with my guys and hope to come back alive.”

Now I was the one who was speechless.

“So you don’t have a girlfriend or anything?”

“No way.” He immediately shook his head.

“A boyfriend?” I just had to ask. I took him in, his uniform, his young face, his voice that spoke as if he were a generation older than he looked.

He shook his head. “Neither. There’s no point in dating. I’m a soldier. Why make anyone else suffer while waiting for me to die?”

His loaded response kept us both quiet as we turned onto my street.

I parked my car in the driveway. The wind whipped around us as I pulled the keys from the ignition. Dirt covered my windshield with each sweep of air. Paving my driveway was rapidly moving up on my to-do list.

As we climbed out of my car, his voice surprised me. “Do you date soldiers?”

I laughed, grabbing my purse from the back floorboard, and the wind helped me slam the car door.

“No way. I don’t date much . . . I mean, I could if I wanted to. I just don’t have the time. Or the energy. But no, I don’t date soldiers, ever. Like you said, what’s the point if they’re always gone and can die at any moment?”