“Why didn’t you get married?” she asked.
Cary shrugged. “Just never got there.”
“Did you ever come close?”
He looked at her for a long beat, like he was deciding whether to answer. “Yeah,” he said.
“What happened?”
“We didn’t get married.”
Shiloh tilted her head, like maybe she could figure out the rest of the story just by squinting at him.
“I’m not great at it,” he said.
“At what?”
“Um... relationships? I guess?”
“Does that mean you don’t have them?”
“No, I have them. And then... I don’t. Because I’m not great at them.”
Shiloh wanted to argue, but she didn’t have any ammunition for it. “Well,” she said. “Me neither. Obviously.”
“I don’t know,” Cary said, “you made it past the finish line.”
“No, I made it past thestartingline.” Shiloh laughed.
Cary bounced his eyebrows. “See? What do I know.”
She folded her arms. She felt relaxed. She was smiling.
Cary rubbed her ankle. “Are you going to tell me about your divorce?”
“Maybe someday.”
He looked in her eyes. Waiting.
“It wasn’t my finest hour,” she said.
“I wouldn’t figure.”
Shiloh’s smile felt tight. She dropped her eyes to Cary’s hand on her ankle.
“It’s my own fault,” he said after a while.
She looked up. “What?”
“That I’m not in a relationship.”
Shiloh waited to see if he wanted to say more.
“I shut down,” he said. “And I have to be in control. And I’m never interested in the sort of women who put up with it.”
Shiloh hummed faintly, acknowledging him. She knew she was giving him a soft look.
Cary pinched her Achilles tendon. He cupped her heel. He wrapped his hand around the bottom of her foot and pressed his thumb up along the arch.
