Chapter 7 - The First Kiss After Eleanor
Their relationship was slow.
Painfully.
Comically.
Slow.
Arthur hadn't dated in years.
Maya had spent most of adulthood caring for Catherine.
Neither was skilled.
Their first date involved Arthur selecting a restaurant where the wine list had its own leather binding.
Maya looked at the menu.
“Do they sell food?”
“Yes.”
“Where are the prices?”
Arthur hesitated.
Maya stared.
“Oh, absolutely not.”
They left.
Ate tacos from a truck.
Arthur ruined his shoes.
Maya photographed them.
Their second date was better.
Third worse.
Fourth excellent.
They kissed after the sixth.
Arthur stopped immediately afterward.
Maya frowned.
“What?”
He looked terrified.
“Eleanor.”
Maya understood.
“Do you want to stop?”
“I don't know.”
“Then we stop.”
No offense.
No insecurity.
No competition with a dead woman.
They sat on a bench instead.
Arthur cried.
“I loved her.”
“I know.”
“I still do.”
“I know.”
“That's unfair to you.”
Maya shook her head.
“No. Comparing me to her would be unfair.”
He looked at her.
“Loving her isn't.”
That was when Arthur realized Maya wasn't asking for Eleanor's place.
There was no vacancy.
May you like
She was asking whether Arthur's life had room to become larger.
Eventually, it did.
