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We separate just enough to look. Julian stands there in a charcoal suit, one hand in his pocket, surveying us with the expression of a man who has caught two teenagers behind the gym.

"Of course," he says. "Where else?"

I wipe quickly beneath my eyes.

"Hello, Julian."

His gaze narrows.

"Why are you crying?"

"I'm not."

"You absolutely are."

Javier clears his throat.

"Good to see you, Julian."

Julian looks between us.

"Am I interrupting something?"

"Yes," Javier says.

"No," I say at the same time.

Julian smiles.

"Excellent. Everything is normal."

I slide off the counter. Javier steadies me automatically, one hand at my waist. Julian notices. He notices everything. Thankfully, he doesn't notice my left hand. Yet.

The two men shake hands.

"Glad you could make it," Javier says.

"You think I'd miss this?"

"No. Of course not."

"Correct."

Javier looks at me.

"I'll leave you two to catch up."

Then he leans down and kisses me. Not long. Not showy. Just soft. Familiar. Mine.

"Don't eat the sauce."

"No promises."

He gives me a look and heads through the swinging door. Julian watches him go. Then looks at me.

"You're disgustingly happy."

"I am."