For a moment, I just chew on my lip. Maybe talking about my inappropriate stomach butterflies will help to get rid of them. “Ben and I hung out a few weeks ago.”

She finishes putting the tray of meatballs in the oven and then turns to lean on the closed door. Cats dance across her yellow apron, wearing little chef hats and holding spatulas. “What happened?”

I shrug. “Nothing really. It was friendly and fun. But a couple of times … there were like a few moments …” I struggle to describe what happened.

“Did he do something to you?”

“What?”

The scowl on her face makes it clear that I’m doing a bad job of explaining myself.

“Oh gosh, Terra, no! That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then, what?”

“I-I think there was attraction. Like just a spark or two. At least, on my end.”

Terra bites her lip as a grin threatens to overtake her face.

“Stop it!”

“Stop what?”

“Looking like I just made your day. This isn’t a good thing!”

“Why not? He seems like a sweet guy. In fact, I think I like him more than any other guy you’ve dated.”

“What’s wrong with the guys I’ve dated?” I move to the sink and begin washing dishes by hand, scrubbing harder than is necessary.

“We’re using a very loose definition of the word ‘dated.’” She uses her fingers to create quotes before sticking her own hands under the faucet. “And the rare times I met a guy you were hooking up with, I got the feeling you weren’t interested, which made me not interested in getting to know him.”

An image of Roderick pops into my head. He took me cutting things off well. When I texted him that I wasn’t feeling our setup anymore, I thought he might insist on calling me or meeting up. But he let go nice and easy, which was a huge relief.

Except for the fact that this just proves Terra’s point.

“So, I haven’t found someone I want to spend a lot of time around. That’s not a problem. The issue is you thinking it’s okay that Ben might be that guy.” I grab a dish towel and start drying.

“Yeah, I’m still not understanding the issue.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m giving him my kidney! The surgery is stressful enough, but just imagine the added pressure if there’s a new relationship. What if we start something up, but then one of us wants to break it off? Who’s to say he’d still want to do the exchange? Then, Marcus loses out again. Or what if …” I trail off because I don’t want to say it. The fear comes directly from the dark hole in my chest where all my childhood issues swirl and eat away at me.

“What if …” Terra isn’t grinning anymore; she’s just listening.

“So, what if I tell him? And it turns out, he doesn’t feel the same way, but he thinks I’ll back out of the exchange, so he lies. Maybe we date. Maybe I feel differently about him, and I start to really like him. Then, I get the surgery done, and I wake up to find that he’s gotten what he wanted. That everything else was a lie. How can I know if he actually likes me or if he’s just keeping his organ donor happy?” It sounds so pathetic and full of self-loathing. But it doesn’t sound impossible.