"What does that mean?"
"It taught you that pain proves loyalty."
He frowned.
Megan continued.
"It doesn't."
"Anna doesn't become less important because Clare makes you smile."
"Your marriage doesn't disappear because you once loved someone else and maybe still do."
Dean stared at the counter.
Megan came around.
She hugged him.
"Go."
He nodded reluctantly.
Then:
"What do I wear?"
Megan laughed so loudly Evan came running.
"What happened?"
"Your dad asked what to wear."
Evan stared.
Then laughed too.
Dean regretted having family.
Clare changed outfits four times.
That annoyed her.
She had presented urban-development plans to rooms containing governors, billionaires, and hostile neighborhood boards without thinking twice about clothing.
Dean Sullivan reduced her to twenty-five.
She finally chose a soft black dress under a long cream coat.
Nothing too formal.
Nothing too obvious.
Then she changed to jeans.
Then back.
At six twenty-five, she looked at herself in the hotel mirror.
"You are thirty-four years old."
Her reflection remained unconvinced.
The knock came at six thirty-two.
Clare's pulse jumped.
She opened.
Dean stood in the hallway wearing dark jeans and a charcoal sweater.
Evan stood beside him holding a small bouquet of grocery-store flowers.
Clare stared.
Evan extended them.
"These are from Dad."
Dean looked horrified.
"No, they are not."
Evan smiled.
"They're from me."
Clare laughed.
Dean pointed.
"He manipulated me into stopping."
"Because you weren't going to bring anything."
"I was bringing myself."
Evan looked at Clare.
"See?"
Clare accepted the flowers.
"They're perfect."
Dean muttered:
"Traitor."
Evan grinned.
Dinner began easily because Evan occupied every silence.
He told Clare about school.
His favorite science teacher.
Why dinosaurs were better than whales.
Why his father overcooked chicken.
Dean objected.
Clare sided with Evan without evidence.
By dessert, Dean relaxed.
Clare watched him with his son.
That might have been the most dangerous part.
The man she remembered had been generous and restless.
This Dean was steadier.
Softer in hidden places.
He cut Evan's dessert in half without being asked.
Remembered which sauce the boy disliked.
Carried a spare inhaler in his pocket.
Parenthood had not diminished him.
It had deepened him.
Clare felt grief for the years she missed.
Then guilt for feeling grief about a life that belonged to Anna too.
After dinner, Evan fell asleep in the hotel lounge while Dean and Clare sat nearby.
Dean lowered his voice.
"You want children?"
Clare looked surprised.
"That's direct."
"Evan trained me."
She smiled.
"Yes."
"Still?"
"More now than before."
Dean nodded.
"Thomas?"
She sighed.
"He wanted them."
"And you?"
"I could imagine children."
"I couldn't imagine the marriage."
Dean looked at her.
"Because of me."
"Partly."
He frowned.
Clare continued.
"Mostly because I realized I'd built a life around never needing anyone."
"Thomas wanted partnership."
"I kept treating it like negotiation."
Dean smiled slightly.
"That sounds like you."
"I know."
She looked toward sleeping Evan.
"Your wife must have been extraordinary."
Dean nodded.
"She was."
"Did she know about me?"
"Yes."
Clare looked sharply.
"What?"
Dean smiled faintly.
"Not everything."
"But she knew there had been someone."
"What did you tell her?"
"That I had loved someone before."
"That she left."
"That I got over it."
Clare raised eyebrows.