Part 3The Rebound Theory

But things kept progressing. Lily started FaceTime-ing me to ask for "playdates."

One weekend, Lily dropped a bomb while Maya was in the restroom.

"Mom likes you," she whispered.

"Don't make things up, kiddo," I laughed nervously.

"I'm serious! She only wears black or white clothes. But every time we see you, she wears colors. Like that red dress."

I froze. I thought back. She was right.

Later that night, I dropped a sleeping Lily off at their apartment. It was the first time I’d been inside. It was stylish but cold. No family photos. No men’s shoes by the door. Just a picture of young Maya and... Brad.

I couldn't take it anymore. I had to know.

"Maya," I asked, standing in her kitchen. "Where is he? Lily’s dad. Why is he never around?"

I expected a slap. Or to be kicked out.

"He’s dead," she said quietly.

My stomach dropped. "I... I’m so sorry."

"It was a long time ago."

Suddenly, the lack of photos, the sadness in her eyes—it all made sense. She was a widow holding onto a ghost.

I did the only thing I could think of. I hugged her. And to my surprise, she melted into me.

"Can I... can I pursue you?" I whispered into her hair. "We can take it slow. As long as you need."

"I'm not..." she started to protest.

"Shh. I don't care if you're not over him. Let me take care of you."

"Why?" she asked, pulling back to look at me.

"Because I’ve been in love with you for fourteen years."

She stared at me. Then, she kissed me.