I offered him a sad smile. “Thanks. I feel very grateful that IVF worked for me. I never did get an answer as to why I can’t get pregnant—just stubborn, defiant eggs, I guess. Anyway, I didn’t mention it the other night because I felt bad. I didn’t want you to think I was comparing my situation to yours. Obviously, I got lucky, and—”

“You don’t have to feel guilty, Sylvia. I’m happy for you. I’m sorry you had to go through what you did, because I know how hard it is, but there’s no reason for you to feel bad that you have two perfect kids. I would never begrudge anyone a family just because I don’t have one.”

God, he was such a good guy. It really sucked that his wife had given up on the marriage. I was trying not to be judgmental—after all, I didn’t have her side of things—but it was hard not to wonder how she could let a guy like Henry go. Again I wondered if he’d like to get remarried someday, try again to have a family.

But it was really none of my business.

I took one last sip and set my mug down. “I should probably get back. Thanks for the coffee, and for the talk. I was feeling really bad about the way we left things last night.”

“I was too.” He stood up. “I’m glad you came by.”

Rising to my feet, I nearly put a hand on his shoulder, but then I remembered—no touching. I quickly shoved my hands beneath my armpits. “Near rule infraction. Sorry. This might take some getting used to.”

He laughed, following me to the front door. “Just don’t wear the red dress again, and we’ll be fine.”

I tugged on my boots. “I shall banish it from my wardrobe forever.”

“Good.” He took my coat from the closet and held it out; I slipped my arms inside and zipped it up.

When I faced him again, he looked much more relaxed than he had when I’d arrived—maybe not totally at ease, but at least less tense. “Are we okay?” I asked softly.

“We’re okay.”

“Good.” I grinned. “I’d hug you goodbye, but—”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He moved around me and opened the door. “Now get out of here before I throw you out.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” But when I was halfway out, I looked at him over my shoulder. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas. Give my best to your family.”

“I will. Bye.”

“Bye.”

I hurried to my dad’s Cadillac and started it up, waving to him one last time as I backed out of the driveway.