Chapter 12 - THE MAN AT THE BOOKSTORE
I met Thomas Reed on a rainy Saturday afternoon.
He was standing in the history section of a bookstore, holding two books and looking confused.
“Excuse me,” he said. “Have you read either of these?”
I looked at the covers.
One was a biography.
The other was a historical mystery.
“Yes.”
He smiled.
“Which one should I buy?”
“The mystery.”
“Why?”
“Because the biography is depressing.”
He laughed.
“Fair.”
We started talking.
Twenty minutes later, we were still standing between the shelves.
Thomas was forty-two.
A civil engineer.
Divorced.
He had a teenage daughter named Sophie.
He was kind.
Quietly funny.
And surprisingly comfortable admitting when he didn't know something.
At the register, he asked:
“Would you like to get coffee sometime?”
I hesitated.
Then smiled.
“Yes.”
***
Our first date was simple.
Coffee.
Conversation.
A walk through a park.
Thomas asked about my work.
Listened.
Asked follow-up questions.
When I mentioned my divorce, he didn't demand details.
He said:
“I'm sorry that happened.”
I nodded.
“Thank you.”
Then we talked about something else.
It felt strange.
Good strange.
***
Over the following months, we dated slowly.
Thomas never rushed me.
Never pressured me.
Never made my uncertainty feel like rejection.
When I told him I needed time, he said:
“Take it.”
I stared.
He smiled.
“I'm not going anywhere tonight.”
May you like
I laughed.
And for the first time in years, I believed someone without needing to check their phone.
