“Is she okay? Mia.”
“She’s fine. She has me and our friends, who are like family. But it hurts. The rejection. She tells me it doesn’t, that I’m enough, but I see the sadness in her eyes. Especially at school events. All those dads. And hers missing.”
“I was raised by a single mother, so I understand. And you? It must make it nearly impossible to think about trusting someone again?”
I nodded, looking down at my lap. “He ruined my belief in fairy tales.”
“And yet here you are. On a dating app. Having dinner with a stranger.”
“Here I am,” I said, smiling. “Against my better judgment.”
“Should I be offended?”
“Probably. But you’re making this a lot easier than I expected.”
“You’re doing the same for me,” Vance said.
We locked eyes for a moment. I forgot where I was, gazing into his eyes. They were such an interesting color. Almost a slate gray in this light.
“Should we order food?” Vance asked. “Soak up some of this wine?”
I smiled. He wasn’t lying. He was enjoying himself. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have suggested dinner.
He waved a server over and we took a few minutes to look at the menu. Soon enough, he’d ordered a burger and I’d asked for the Cobb salad.
“Tell me more about Mia.”
“Well, she’s super smart. Sort of nerdy. Loves school and learning. She’s good at every subject, which amazes me. But hermain interest is art. She carries around a sketch pad just in case she sees something interesting.”
“I love that.”
“Yes, me too. She’s a little too grown up. Children of divorce are like that. I rely on her too much, probably. But she’s my favorite person.”
A flash of sadness shadowed his face for a second, but he quickly hid it. “Does she know you’re here tonight?”
I laughed, nodding. “Oh, yes. She’s the whole reason I’m here. She and her friends—my best friends’ kids—decided to secretly put our profiles up on the app.”
“No way.”
“Yep. We could not believe it. They were in a lot of trouble. I took mine down right away, but then I started thinking, maybe I should try.”
“Why?”
“Because Gillian found love, and it opened my eyes that maybe there might be someone for me too,” I said.
“Then I owe her a thank you,” Vance said. “GillianandMia.”
“Don’t encourage her. Mia’s already convinced she’s a matchmaking genius. She picked you out.”
“Well, then maybe she is.”
The way he said it—simple, sincere—made my heart skip.
Our food arrived, and we kept talking between bites. He told me about his mother, an English teacher who’d raised him alone after his abusive father left. “I was five. Mama had had enough of his verbal abuse, but put up with it for me. But then he turned physical. The first time he hit her, she’d had enough. Called the cops and kicked him out. I never saw him again.”
“Is that hard?” I asked.
“Not really. He just doesn’t exist. What about you? Do you still have your parents?”
