“Well, my schedule is a little more flexible than yours.”

It’s true, although I have a feeling she checks with him before she schedules anything. For some reason, Monica wants Sam at those appointments. He even drove her to the last appointment, and at work she couldn’t stop gushing about the amazing job he did parking his car in some tiny little spot. He must have eaten that up.

“What is she always texting you about, anyway?” I ask him.

He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Mostly math stuff.”

“Math?”

“Yeah.” He nods vigorously. “You know, Monica really knows her stuff—she’s got a brain for it. I know she’s set on going back to school for graphic art, but I’m trying to talk her into a math degree. She could do it.”

“And what does she say about it?”

“She’s thinking about it.” A guy cuts Sam off and he curses under his breath, but doesn’t honk. “She wants to apply to our program, but I thought that might be awkward because… well, you know.”

“Gee, you think?”

Sam lets out a sigh. “Look, let’s not talk about Monica anymore. Okay?”

“Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know.” He grins at me. “How about baby names? We don’t have much time left to decide.”

I can’t help but return his smile. “I’m not going to cave on Adam.”

“What’s wrong with Adam? It’s a great name. Biblical.”

“Adam Adler? It’s a little too much alliteration. Sounds like the civilian identity of a Marvel superhero.”

“What about Jacob?”

“No. I dated a guy named Jake.”

“So?”

“So it would be weird!”

“Fine.” Sam rolls his eyes. “What about Richard?”

“I also dated a guy named Richard.”

“Matthew?”

“I also dated a Matthew.”

He snorts. “Maybe we need to look to more international names to find one that you haven’t already dated.”

“Okay, but keep in mind, I spent a semester abroad in Italy.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to know.”

It’s sort of odd in a way how Sam and I haven’t discussed our prior relationships much. I know he’s had girlfriends before me—it would be weird if he hadn’t since we didn’t start dating until we were in our mid-twenties. If I ever asked him about it, he’d say something vague about it being in the past, then ask me why I wanted to know so badly. Or he’d make some comment about them, like, “The relationship wasn’t a big deal.” It irked me because I worried someday he’d be talking to a future girlfriend about me, and say, “Abby wasn’t a big deal.”