midnight, remembering people I’d forgotten and places that no longer existed.
“Remember the diner?” he asked.
“Remember spilling a milkshake on my dress?”
“You bumped my arm.”
“You were staring at the waitress.”
“I was staring at you.”
I laughed.
“Still a liar.”
His phone buzzed on the table.
Danny glanced at the screen, then turned it facedown.
“Aren’t you going to answer?”
“No.”
“Who is it?”
“Someone from my old life.”
Something in his tone made me pause.
Then he smiled and took my hand.
“That life doesn’t matter
