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“It was fantastic,” I say as I lean back in my chair, patting my belly. “I don’t know why I don’t come here more often.”

He eyes me over the mug. “Maybe we can make it our thing, you know? Take some time, maybe Sunday mornings, and come to breakfast.”

I feel the corners of my mouth turn up with a smile which makes him smile as well. “I’d like that. Maybe we can bring the kids too.”

“Sure, if they agree to keep their phones in the car.”

“Yeah, well,” I say, “I guess it’ll be just you and me then. Asking them to do that is like asking them to cut off an appendage.”

He laughs at my joke. The waitress comes and places the check on the table, but when I go to reach for it, he snatches it from my hand. “You know that’s not how this works, right?”

“I’d like to pay for it,” I tell him, making sure I sound adamant.

“Well, I’d like a few things,” he wiggles his brows at me, “but I’m not getting those either, so you’re going to have to deal.” He leans over to the side and pulls out his wallet, snaking the credit card for its holder. A flash of red catches my eyes against the dark brown of the leather.

“Hey.” I put out my hand, “What’s that?” I point to the wallet. When I look at him, he has a puzzled look on my face.

“What’s what?” He opens his wallet all the way. It’s a picture of the two of us. We were both wearing red T-shirts, and I think it was from the eighth grade Sadi Hawkins dance. I had just broken up with my boyfriend, and Heath said he didn’t have the time to deal with the female population. Of course, me being the exception.

I was always the exception.

“You still have that?” My voice goes quiet. I can feel my nose start to burn with emotion.

He licks his lips, his eyes tracking the emotion on my face. “Why wouldn’t I?”

I snatch his wallet from his hand making his eyes widen in shock. “Why haven’t I ever noticed it before?”

“I don’t know. I’ve carried it with me since the night we took it.”

I inspect the picture that rests in the cracked, cloudy plastic. It’s the only picture he carries with him. I run my finger over the picture, instantly taking me back to that night. We danced and laughed the entire night. When Sarah Pollock tapped him on the shoulder and asked him to dance, he turned her down flat, and every weekend after when she’d ask him to hang out with her. I laugh to myself, thinking about it. She hated my guts. She tried to bully me the rest of the year, but Heath didn’t let her attempts stand. He protected me from her and her posse of bitches until the moment she moved away, and all of her friends suddenly became my friends. Funny how that works.

He clears his throat, so I hand his wallet back. “Sorry about that,” I say.

“Don’t be.” The corner of his mouth draws up. “For over twenty years, Whit, you’ve been with me day in and day out. Even when you’re not with me, you’re with me.” He taps on his wallet.

“I–I never knew you were so sentimental.”

That makes him smile. “I’m not sure I’d call it sentimental.”

“Then what would you call it?” I question.

“Making sure the person you love most in the world is always with you.”