“Sirvan isn’t the only person I know who killed himself, or tried to. But he only made the one attempt that we know of, and that one attempt succeeded. And when something like that happens, you spend days and months and years going back over everything, wondering what you missed. If I had it to do over again, there’s a lot I would have done differently. Because I didn’t see his reaching out for help for what it was until it was too late.

“So . . .” He slid his hand into hers. “I can see that you’re hurting, and I can see that you don’t have a great support structure right now, and the way your family is acting now feels very familiar. I’m super disappointed in your mother, but I’m not surprised, because my parents did a lot of the same. I’m really disappointed in Luciana, but I can’t say I don’t see myself in her. Me being made uncomfortable by my brother’s mental illness wasn’t the only reason he did what he did, but it didn’t help him, so I don’t want to make that mistake again. Please don’t apologize for the act of experiencing pain.”

The reflection of the candlelight flickered in her glossy, redrimmed eyes. Somewhere over the last couple of minutes, her guarded, frightened tension had dissolved. “You’re very good at this.”

“Good at what?”

She looked back down at their entwined hands. “This.”

He turned her hand to face upward and began drawing light circles on the center of her palm. She drew in a faint little gasp, and not for the first time, he wondered if this was a bad idea, and not just because of their age difference. It was difficult to humor the idea of a relationship with her; they were at such different stages of life, to say nothing of the absolutely bizarre circumstances that had brought them together. But it was hard to think responsibly when she was looking at him as if he were a shiny new car she was dying to take for a ride.

Why so much hand-wringing? They were clearly on the same page, and she was starved for human contact he was more than willing to supply. He wanted to take her home, get her into his bed, smell her and taste her and touch her and fuck her and cover her body with his. He wanted to take care of her. He wanted her to stop being so afraid. He wanted to be the person who made her feel safe.

“Funny,” he said. “I’m not even trying yet.”

“What does trying look like?”