"Tell me."
"Absolutely not."
He grins. There it is — the real one, the one that was always the best version of his face, unguarded and bright and exactly like the boy I fell in love with. "Was it the one with the British people and the baking?"
"I will end this dinner right now."
He laughs, reaches across the table, and covers my hand with his, and the laugh fades into something warmer. His thumb moves across my knuckles. "I'm glad you had Maeve."
"She’s a lifesaver, truly."
"I hated that you were alone for any of it."
"I wasn't alone the whole time." I keep my voice easy. "Friends came. People checked in."
He nods. His thumb keeps moving. "You seem good, though. Really good." He tilts his head. "Different."
"I’m only good…now." I nod, keeping our eye contact.
"Tell me about the job," he says.
I take a breath. "There's not much to tell. A coffee shop near campus. Mornings mostly."
"Adela."
I sip my wine and lift a brow.
"You don't need to work."
"I know I don't need to." I meet his eyes. "I want to. It makes me feel—" I pause, choosing. "Grounded."
He looks at me for a long moment.
"I don't love it," he says.
"I know."
"But if it makes you happy."
"It does,” I sing.
He exhales through his nose, conceding. Not because he agrees but because he's decided not to fight it tonight. I’m glad to know I still have some power over him.
"Okay," he says finally.
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me." He squeezes my hand. "Just go home when your shift ends. Don't be somewhere I can't find you."
The words land sharply, but I smile at him anyway. "I live on campus. I'm never hard to find."
The food is good, as it always is in this house. The conversation finds its rhythm the way it used to — easy, warm. We’re just two people who have known each other long enough to have our own language. He tells me about physical therapy, about some of the team coming to visit, about a book his father left in his room during recovery that he actually read because there was nothing else to do.
"You read a whole book," I say.
"Don't make it weird."
"I'm not making it weird, I'm celebrating."