Page 60 of Forgotten Romance

I palm my forehead. “I’m out of practice.”

“And that was where you thought you should start?”

My cheeks are burning, but Luke’s surprise gives way to amusement.

“So … about them.” He pumps his eyebrows, and it helps me relax again.

“We are not off to a good start.”

“Eh. I’m enjoying myself, and isn’t that the whole point of dates?”

“I guess so.”

Luke risks another sip of his water. “Now we’ve established where your mind is at, tell me some other cool stuff about you.”

“I don’t have anything cool, but …” I sift through my brain, trying to figure it out. The main things that jump out are Davey’s work, the kids, Davey leaving, Davey dating, loving Davey. Fuck. When did that become my whole life? Talking about myself should be easy. The thing about being me is that I should know more about me than anyone, but I don’t know anything at all.

Do … do I even exist?

I meet Luke’s eyes. “I’m having the dawning realization that I don’t actually have much of a life.”

“What do you mean?”

“Tell me something about you. Really quick.”

“I love cats.”

“There. See?” I point at him. “That was so easy for you. I’ve sat here for, well, at least a minute, and I’ve got nothing.”

“There’s no way that’s true.”

“Apparently, I’m not a person anymore.”

“Well, you’re not a robot, so …”

“This is serious.”

Luke reaches over to take my hand. He gives it a squeeze, and it feels nice. Surprisingly. “I imagine as a parent—a single parent most of the time—that you don’t put much thought into yourself. But you’re still you. That hasn’t changed. I guess maybe you just need to remember who that person is.”

I exhale deeply and tug my hand back. “Thanks. You’re right.”

“You like the Hobbit,” he finally says.

“Yeah. Originally, it was The Lord of the Rings movies that got me into it all, but when I like something, I usually latch onto it. Went through so many behind-the-scenes videos, character interviews, then moved on to Tolkien biographies and loved all the stuff on the languages he created. I read the books, and then I read The Hobbit, and I dunno, I just loved it. It gave so much more context than the movies.” I cut off when I realize I’ve said a lot of dumb words.

“That’s so cool. Sometimes the background info on how something came to be makes it even more meaningful.”

“Exactly.”

“Is that why you work at the library?”

I take a drink, wondering how to structure my response without Davey coming into it. “Given I’m alone a lot of the time and my friends all work, once Kiera started school and Van was ready to be around kids his own age …” I lift a shoulder. “Needed something to do with my life. The job came up when I was searching, and it sounded perfect.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“I love it, actually.” I think about the huge old building. The stacks of books. The wacky people we have in and the wild kids who either hang on to your every word when you read to them or tear the room apart. The more I think, the more I wonder if I really could walk away from all of that.

But … the alternative is losing Davey.

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