He always gave the official answer.
“At work.”
I always corrected him.
“Our offices were in the same building for two years. We did not actually meet until my daughter recruited him.”
Mia, eventually old enough to be embarrassed by the story, would groan.
“I was six.”
“You were very decisive.”
“I called him handsome.”
“You did.”
“I cannot believe you still tell people this.”
Adrian would look at me.
“I consider it the most effective executive-search process Kane Global has ever conducted.”
Mia would leave the room.
We would laugh.
And sometimes, on quiet evenings, when dinner was finished and the city glowed outside our windows, I would notice the life around me.
Mia arguing with Adrian about whether she had finished her homework.
A photograph of Daniel on the bookshelf.
Caroline Kane’s photograph beside it.
My wedding ring catching the kitchen light.
A work bag abandoned by the door.
