Jake shook his head.
“I’m leaving.”
Avery had been right.
He didn’t.
They took a booth near the window.
For the first ten minutes, the absurdity did the work for them.
No awkward introduction.
No résumé questions.
They already knew:
Jake stopped for stranded motorists.
Sophia wore impractical boots.
Both distrusted blind dates.
Maya could not be trusted with private information.
Then conversation deepened.
Sophia ordered tomato soup and grilled cheese despite looking like a woman who should have been dining under chandeliers.
Jake ordered meatloaf.
She stared.
“What?”
“You’re on a date.”
“And?”
“That is the least date-like dinner possible.”
“I like meatloaf.”
“So romantic.”
“What did you expect?”
“Something that doesn’t arrive with gravy.”
Jake smiled.
“You chose grilled cheese.”
“That’s elegant.”
“It’s bread.”
They laughed.
Sophia asked about Avery.
Jake showed one photograph.
Avery holding a trout almost as long as her forearm, face displaying more pride than the fish deserved.
Sophia smiled.
“She looks like you.”
“Poor kid.”
“She has your eyes.”
Jake studied the photo.
“She has Claire’s smile.”
Sophia waited.
“Your wife?”
Jake nodded.
“She died four years ago.”
Sophia did not ask how immediately.
Instead:
“Is this your first date since?”
“No.”
Jake considered.
“Third.”
“How bad were first two?”
“One woman spent forty minutes talking about her ex-husband’s podcast.”
Sophia nearly choked on soup.
“The other asked whether I planned to have more children before appetizers arrived.”
“Efficient.”
“She was thirty-eight.”
“Time matters.”
“Yes.”
“But maybe establish whether you like someone’s last name first.”
Sophia smiled.
“You?”
Jake asked.
“My last date?”
“No.”
“Blind dates.”
“First in years.”
“Why?”
Her fingers tightened slightly around spoon.
“I was engaged.”
Jake nodded.
“How long ago?”
“Eleven months.”
“That’s recent.”
“It feels both recent and ancient.”
He understood.
She looked through window at snow.
“Grant was not terrible.”
“People always expect me to say something awful.”
“He didn’t cheat.”
“He didn’t hit me.”
“He wasn’t cruel in obvious ways.”
Jake listened.
“We just kept becoming versions of ourselves I didn’t like.”
“What version were you?”
Sophia thought.
“Decorative.”
Jake frowned.
She smiled bitterly.
“He liked introducing me.”
“He liked how I looked at dinners.”
“He liked my family name.”
“He liked having opinions about what I wore.”
“What I said.”
“Which friends were useful.”
“Which causes were too messy.”
“The relationship looked wonderful in photographs.”