“I’m looking generally.”
“At my face?”
“Yes.”
“That was not where your eyes were two seconds ago.”
He laughed.
She moved closer.
“Are you still angry with me?”
“Sometimes.”
“Right now?”
He looked at her.
“No.”
She lifted one hand to his chest.
The same kind of movement she had made beside the highway.
His breathing changed again.
“Can I kiss you?”
she asked.
Direct.
Clear.
No ambiguity.
The Single Dad looked into her eyes.
“Yes.”
She kissed him.
Slowly at first.
Then with months of restrained attraction behind it.
His hand settled at her waist.
She stepped closer.
His other hand moved into her hair.
She smiled against his mouth.
“You really were looking.”
“Don’t ruin this.”
She laughed softly.
Then kissed him again.
When they separated, neither pretended the kiss solved anything.
That made it better.
They continued.
Slow.
The Woman met his daughter again.
The girl immediately asked if they were boyfriend and girlfriend.
The Single Dad nearly choked.
The Woman answered:
“We’re figuring that out.”
The child nodded.
“Okay.”
Then asked whether the Woman still had the motorcycle.
“Yes.”
“Can I sit on it?”
The Single Dad said no.
The Woman said maybe.
He stared.
She smiled.
“We’re going to have problems.”
“Probably.”
The relationship became serious enough that the Woman disclosed it to the board ethics committee.
That meeting was unpleasant.
The General Counsel asked whether the Single Dad had current business dealings with the company.
“No.”
Whether he had received compensation.
“No.”
Whether she intended to hire him.
“No.”
Whether he influenced the restructuring review.
“He suggested we talk to affected employees.”
The General Counsel stared.
“That is arguably influence.”
The Woman nodded.
“Document it.”
She refused secrecy.
The Single Dad appreciated that more than he expected.
Then opportunity arrived from somewhere else.
A regional aerospace supplier contacted him.
They had read a technical article he published years earlier.
Someone had recommended him for a reliability engineering role.
The salary exceeded his former income.
Hybrid schedule.
Small team.
No connection to the Woman’s company.
He nearly declined.
The position scared him.
Not because he lacked skill.
Because returning meant discovering whether he was still the man he had been before losing everything.
The Woman knew.
“You should take it.”
he said.
She smiled.
“That is exactly what I was going to tell you.”
“No.”
“You looked ready to produce a spreadsheet.”
“I had one.”
He laughed.
“You’re impossible.”
“So I’m told.”
He accepted.
The first month was brutal.