“Yes.”
“At the Hawthorne?”
“The reception is.”
“You’re going?”
“She is my cousin.”
“I meant alone.”
The question nearly made me laugh. “I’m attending a family wedding, Daniel. I doubt they’ll make me cross the parking lot unescorted.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.”
He put the invitation down and asked, “Have you started seeing someone?”
I imagined Rachel’s shampoo in his shower, her toothbrush by the sink. He wanted to assess my romantic life while sharing his with her.
“No.”
He visibly relaxed. That pleased me less than
