The clock showed seven-forty in the evening. We were late, even though no one but me knew it.
I walked through the living room for the third time, ran my fingers through my hair, stopped in front of the entryway mirror, and adjusted my shirt sleeve once more. Navy blue. Dress shirt, with the first button undone. Nothing too formal, but elegant enough not to look unprepared. Or at least that's what I hoped.
I sighed.
My last date had been with the woman I loved for nearly a decade. Elena. She wore a sea-green dress and smiled all night as if the world were still hers, even with her body tired from illness. Back then, I pretended to be strong. Like a sandcastle trying to face a tide of pain. She left days later. And I drowned.
Since then, there had been no room for candlelit dinners, no
