"We are never doing the one-year thing again."
"Agreed."
I opened the door.
Then he said, "Emily?"
I turned.
"Would you... want coffee?"
I stared at him. "Coffee?"
"Tomorrow?"
I pretended to think. "That's awfully soon."
His crooked smile came back. "I've waited a year."
"Fair."
We went to Rue Café the next afternoon.
Same table.
The waiter saw us walk in together.
He looked at Adrian. Then at me.
"You two are exhausting."
I pointed at Adrian. "His fault."
Adrian nodded. "Mostly."
That was nine months ago. No, we aren't married.
This didn't magically turn into a fairy tale.
We're dating.
It's good. It's also real.
Adrian still has difficult days.
His speech gets worse when he's tired. His left leg occasionally drags.
He gets frustrated when his body refuses to do something his brain remembers doing easily.
And sometimes he still tries to protect people by deciding things for them.
We argue about that. He's working on it.
