And it would be so cliché to ask him if we can be friends, even though I really hope we can.
I walk over to him. He doesn’t know anyone here besides the online version of Lorraine, and I’m filled with a strange mix of gratitude and dread. I really don’t want to hurt this man.
“Hey,” I say.
He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I heard about what happened. I’m sorry I wasn’t there today.”
“Oh, it’s okay,” I say. “It was really good... and then it really wasn’t.”
“I, uh...” He glances over at Miles, then back at me. “I had a date.”
I can’t see my face, but I’m pretty sure it’s showing my surprise. “Oh!”
“I know you and I are not exclusive, but I still wanted to be straight with you about it.” He’s nodding as he says this, and then I realize that Duffy is trying to work up the courage to let me down easy.
A flood of relief washes over me. “That’s so great, Duffy,” I say. “Did you have a nice time?”
He seems to be trying not to smile, but he’s failing. Finally, he gushes, “A really nice time!”
“I’m so glad.” And I really am.
“Actually, you met her—Sonya? She was White Diamond from Steven Universe?”
I frown.
“The woman in the book signing line—the one in all white.”
“Oh, right!” I say, remembering. “She was beautiful!”
“We connected later on a message board,” he says. “And realized we’d met that day.” He grimaces. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it.”
I cross my arms over my chest and smile up at him. “I feel pretty awesome about it actually, because it looks like you’re really happy.”
The smile is back. “I am.”
“Good.”
His eyes dart over to the grill, where I know Miles is standing. “What about you?” He brings his attention back to me. “Are you and your neighbor...?”
I shake my head. “Oh no, we’re just friends.”
Duffy’s grin turns goofy. “Ohhkay.”
I shove his arm, and we seem to settle into a playful sort of platonic friendship. “We are.”
He leans forward. “Then why does he keep looking over here?”
I glance over my shoulder, and when my eyes meet Miles’s, he smiles but quickly looks away. A flutter of hope fills my rib cage.
But then I remember his perfectly understandable and valid reasons for not wanting a relationship ever again. His very brutal divorce and all the hurt his ex-wife caused have irrevocably broken him. I understand that more than ever now.
And I can’t even blame him. I get it. More than most.
Strangely, though, I’m willing to try again. To open up again.
If someone asked me about that possibility even three weeks ago, I would’ve said no way.
But I am.
