“I am.”
“More than before?”
I thought carefully.
“Different than before.”
She frowned.
“That’s not an answer.”
Apparently she had been spending too much time with Adrian.
I smiled.
“I was happy with Daddy.”
She nodded.
“And I was happy with you.”
Another nod.
“But after Daddy died, I got scared.”
“Of what?”
“Of wanting things I couldn’t control.”
She listened quietly.
“So I stopped wanting very much.”
“Except me.”
I touched her cheek.
“Never you.”
She smiled.
“And now?”
“Now I know being happy doesn’t mean nothing sad ever happened.”
Her eyes stayed on mine.
“It means I can remember what I lost and still love what I have.”
Mia considered this with the seriousness of a philosopher trapped inside a second-grader.
Then she nodded.
“Okay.”
She took my hand.
“Adrian is nervous.”
“He is?”
“He said no.”
“That means yes.”
“I know.”
Years later, people would sometimes ask Adrian and me how we met.
