He looks timid—not like the others.
“Help yourself.”
“I’ll get the next round if you want.”
Is that a blush on his cheeks?
He sat. “You’re very nice. I haven’t been here in a long time. Not since…”
He looked down, smile gone.
That’s genuine emotion. He’s about my age, too.
“Since when?”
“Almost five years. Friends advised meeting new people.”
Glad they did. What kept a good man like this hemmed up?
“Divorce?”
“No, Cancer. Eighteen wonderful years before…”
“I think I’ll have a refill.”
*We need to get to know each other.*