He didn't look convinced, but he didn't push.
"You want to have dinner tonight?" he asked.
I nodded.
"Yeah, that sounds good."
A smile tugged at his lips.
"Okay," he said, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand once before standing up, “I should get back before the CEO decides to fire me.”
I rolled my eyes, smiling softly.
“You’re dramatic.”
“We both know your brother would enjoy it,” he said, squeezing my hand once more, before stepping back. “I'll text you."
I watched him walk away, my chest aching.
The rest of the day dragged on. By the time I met him for dinner that night, I was exhausted.
We went to a quiet Italian place, and I barely touched my food.
He tried to make conversation, asking about work, about my day, but I could barely focus. All I could think about wa
