“He’s doing really well now. The director of my charity helped him get a great job, and he met someone recently. And I don’t know that his heart was really in what he did back then, because he tried to overdose with cough drops and vitamin supplements. I’m still not sure how he expected to nourish himself to death.”

It was very cool that his charity was able to help one of his friends. Sometimes those benefits weren’t always tangible, and I thought it was neat that Noah got to see some of the fruits of his labors. “I’m so glad he’s doing better.” I paused. “It would be inappropriate for me to laugh, right?”

“Yes, and know that I would judge you for it,” he said, his tone light and teasing. “It’s one of the reasons I have my charity. It makes me feel like I can keep serving even if I’m not still in the army.” Then he told me more stories about his friends from his company until we got to the parking lot.

For some reason, I was hearing my mom’s voice in my head, reminding me of our age difference. Which is practically nonexistent, I said back. But then I realized that it wasn’t an age gap but an experience gap, with all the things he had seen and been through. He had done so much and accomplished so many things, and I . . . was scared of kissing and had started a dog-grooming business.

Why would he want to be with someone like you? the voice whispered at me, and this time I didn’t have an answer.

I put my van in park and turned off the ignition. I got out of the car to switch places with him, and when we crossed paths in front, he stopped to give me a hug. “Just in case I get us into an accident and we don’t make it,” he teased.

“Don’t wreck my van,” I told him.

“I’ll do my best.”

We got back in and put on our seat belts. I told him to put his foot on the brake and turn the key to start the engine.

“Your check-engine light is on,” he said, pointing at the dashboard.

“I checked it. The engine is still there.”

“Funny,” he said in a tone that indicated he didn’t think it was funny at all. “It seems ominous.”

“It’s fine.”

“I’m pretty sure that it’s more of an order than a suggestion. I don’t think cars give you a heads-up just in case you feel like investigating.”

“I can’t afford to take it in.” There was a silence that hung there and I could feel how much he wanted to offer to pay for it, but it was my responsibility, not his.

We were just friends.