The words hung between us.
Rosie appeared with our food, breaking the moment. She set down the burgers and the milkshake with a wink.
"You two enjoy," she said, walking away.
I looked down at the milkshake, one glass, two straws, just like we used to share.
Enzo noticed me staring.
"Too much?" he asked.
"No," I said, surprising myself. "It's perfect."
We ate in silence for a while, the kind of silence that felt good instead of awkward. Every now and then, one of us would reach for the milkshake, and our hands would almost touch.
Halfway through my burger, I asked, "So what made you become such a workaholic? I mean, I know you wanted success, but..."
He set down his burger, wiping his hands on a napkin.
"When you left New York and came back to Maplewood," he said quietly, "I didn'
