Page 4 of Twenty Years Later

"You just what?"

"Well, it's, um, I haven't been to a reunion yet." I'd ignored the few invitations I'd received many years ago. "And I really never planned on going to one."

"Why not?"

How on earth could I explain it to him? Could Mr. Hot and Popular ever really fathom what I was feeling?

"I guess I just think being around those people from high school will take me right back to that place. You know?"

"What place?" he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Did he really not understand? "That completely awkward and insecure teenage place where I used to dwell in high school."

Now his face registered surprise. "You felt insecure in high school?"

I felt my eyes widen. "Yeah. Just a little. Didn't you?"

He looked out the window as he thought. "Hmm. I guess." Then those eyes returned to mine. "But you're not insecure now."

"Right. That's true." He did have a good point. I could do this. Iwoulddo this.

"Sorry," he interrupted my little internal pep talk. "I should have asked if your husband was in town to see if he wanted to go too."

"Oh," I said. It was kind of strange the way he had said that, like he knew I had been married. But maybe it was just that I still wore my wedding band. "My husband actually passed away four years ago."

After staring at me for a moment, he finally said, "I'm really sorry to hear that."

"Thanks." I released a deep breath I hadn't been aware I was holding inside.

He played with his coffee lid before looking at me again. "That must have been really hard."

"It was." It still is, I wanted to add. Being a single mom was incredibly challenging. Going it alone truly sucked.

Those brown eyes stared into mine, seeming to reach into my depths. "Do you mind if I ask how he died?"

I shook my head. "I don't mind. He had something called an aortic dissection."

"Oh, that's awful."

Nodding, I took a sip of my drink as I felt a lump develop in my throat. This was something I wasn't used to talking about anymore. Everyone around me already knew, and I didn't have to tell the whole terrible story.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I'm really sorry," he said.

"No. No. It's okay." Those eyes showed so much concern that I found myself wanting to share it with him. "When I was two months pregnant, he needed emergency open-heart surgery. And well, the recovery was rough, but it seemed like he would pull through. But then, three weeks after our daughter was born, he had another emergency. And that time..." I had a tough time getting the words out. "That time, he didn't make it."

His breath came out in a whoosh. "That's unbelievable. I can't even imagine how hard that must have been... must still be. What was his name?"

"Blake." He nodded, and I decided it was time to change the subject before I embarrassed myself with tears. "What about you? What's your situation?"

Leaning back in his chair, he sighed. "So I kind of have a, um, complicated situation, I guess."

That was rather unexpected, and I wasn't sure what to say. Of course, I was beyond curious but didn't really want to pry. "Oh, okay."

He smiled. "Not sure you want to ask?"

Was he reading my mind or what? "I don't want to be too nosy," I confessed.

"You're not being nosy," he said after taking another sip of his coffee. "Actually, I have a daughter too. She just turned one."

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