"And later?"
He smiled.
"Rachel."
Sophia knew instantly.
His wife.
She did not interrupt.
Jake traced one thumb across coffee cup.
"We grew up in neighboring towns."
"Didn't date until I came back."
"She worked at a pharmacy."
"Then elementary school."
Sophia waited.
Jake continued:
"She was better with people than me."
"I doubt that."
"You met me beside a dead car."
"Exactly."
He smiled.
"She could walk into a room and know who's lonely."
"Who needs help."
"Who needs to be left alone."
Sophia's voice softened.
"How long were you married?"
"Seven years."
"And Molly?"
"Eight."
Sophia looked toward him.
"So she was three..."
"When Rachel died."
"Yes."
"I'm sorry."
Jake nodded.
"Thank you."
Not performative.
Not awkward.
Sophia liked how he accepted sympathy without turning grief into identity.
She asked:
"Does Molly know you're here?"
Jake laughed.
"She picked my shirt."
"Really?"
"She said my normal clothes make me look like someone who repairs septic tanks."
Sophia laughed.
"She's eight?"
"Brutal."
"I already like her."
Jake's expression softened.
"You might."
That simple sentence held possibility.
Sophia noticed.
So did he.
The food arrived.
Pot roast was excellent.
Sophia admitted it reluctantly.
Jake looked smug.
She hated smug.
She liked his.
After dinner, the café emptied slowly.
Outside snow continued.
Christmas music played softly.
They should have left.
Neither moved.
Sophia eventually asked:
"Why did you agree?"
Jake leaned back.
"Emily guilted me."
"Besides that."
He looked at her.
"Because part of me knew she was right."
"About?"
"That I've been using Molly as an excuse."
"For what?"
"Not dating."
Sophia nodded.
"Children are convenient shields."
"You have some?"
"No."
Jake watched her.
"Want them?"
Direct.
Sophia appreciated it.
"Yes."
"Still?"
She smiled slightly.
"I'm thirty-two, not ninety."
"I didn't mean age."
"I know."
She looked toward window.
"I was engaged."
Jake stayed quiet.
Sophia continued.
"Boston."
"Daniel."
"We were together four years."
"Two months before wedding I found out he was cheating."
Jake's jaw tightened.
Sophia noticed.
"You don't know him."
"Already dislike him."
She smiled.
"That helps."
"What happened?"
"I left."
"The wedding?"
"Everything."
"Eventually Vermont."
Jake nodded.
"How long ago?"
"Year and a half since breakup."
"Seven months here."
"Yes."
"Do you miss him?"
Sophia considered.
"No."
"Do you miss who you thought he was?"
She looked at Jake.
That question was better than she expected.
"Sometimes."
Jake nodded.
"I get that."
"Do you?"
"Different reason."
He looked toward fire.
"After Rachel died, I missed versions of her that never existed."
"What do you mean?"
"Memory cleans people up."
Sophia listened.
"She became perfect."
"Never irritated."
"Never forgot groceries."