Chapter 11 - THE DINNER THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING
We met at a small Italian restaurant near Lincoln Square.
June arrived wearing a dark green dress.
Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders.
For a moment, I forgot how to speak.
She noticed.
"Something wrong?"
"No."
I stood.
"You look beautiful."
She smiled.
"Thank you."
We ordered pasta.
Shared bread.
Talked for hours.
For once, nobody interrupted me with business calls.
Nobody asked for permission.
Nobody looked at me with fear.
June told me about growing up in a crowded apartment with her parents and Oliver.
I told her about Delaney as a child.
How she used to hide my car keys.
How she once painted our father's expensive shoes pink.
How she insisted every birthday cake needed exactly twelve candles, regardless of age.
June laughed.
"She sounds wonderful."
"She is."
I looked down.
"I forgot that for a while."
June's expression softened.
"You didn't forget her. You were afraid."
I looked up.
She continued.
"Sometimes people hide behind work because they don't know how to face grief."
I stared.
Nobody had ever spoken to me that way.
Not without expecting punishment.
June reached across the table.
"That doesn't excuse what happened."
"I know."
"But it means you can choose differently."
I took her hand.
"I want to."
After dinner, I walked her to her car.
The air was cold.
Streetlights reflected on wet pavement.
June turned toward me.
"Adrian."
"Yes?"
"I need to tell you something."
My stomach tightened.
She looked at me.
"I like you."
I smiled.
"That's encouraging."
She laughed softly.
"But your life is complicated."
"That's one way to describe it."
"And I won't become someone you control."
I stepped closer.
"I don't want that."
She studied my face.
Then nodded.
"Good."
I hesitated.
"May I kiss you?"
She smiled.
May you like
"Yes."
And beneath the Chicago streetlights, I kissed the woman whose name I had once failed to learn.
