I’m disappointed Candace didn’t choose to live on my premises, but I’m not surprised; I don’t blame her one bit.

How strange it would be for her to move into a home I’d built with her in mind! Not because I thought I’d ever see her again, but because her vision of the home she wanted us to have dominated my thoughts on the matter.

My house has always made me feel like she’s with me in a way, which has been both a blessing and a curse.

I still imagine having kids someday, so I don’t regret all the extra bedrooms, but no matter what I do, I can’t seem to fill the space adequately. 

I haven’t had a serious girlfriend since Candace, though I’ve had a few long-term arrangements—the longest lasting about two months since that’s about the time a woman seems to be on the verge of requiring more commitment or something of the sort, which I always make clear from the beginning I’m unwilling to give. 

I sever relationships before anyone can get too attached, quickly moving on to new prey.

This has been working quite well for me—I’m never alone if I don’t want to be, and I usually distract myself enough to avoid the thing that hits me every now and then without warning—the awareness that no matter how many millions I make, how many friends and colleagues and random women I spend my time with, something is glaringly missing.

I never had the luxury of being unaware of what that thing was—I’ve always known it was Candace, but I had accepted I wasn’t getting her back.

Despite what I’d been telling myself, now that she has reemerged, that nagging feeling has disappeared, and I can’t pretend to be fine with it ever again. There’s no way I can act like she doesn’t exist; there’s no going back now.

As soon as I seduce Candace back into my bed and my way back into her heart, my life will be complete. 

All I need right now is patience; we both still have some healing and further catching up to do. 

* * *

I make the mistake of meeting Candace at her new suite instead of having her come down to my waiting car.

I have a key to her unit, but I knock, announcing my arrival.

The vision that opens the door stuns me—a smiling Candace fully made up, hair styled as I haven’t seen before, and wearing one of the dresses I’d gotten for her.

She looks beautiful, but it’s the carefree look of her that gets me, the genuine warmth and sparkle in her eyes and smile. 

I almost cancel our dinner plans to seduce her right there and then, but remind myself that it could be a huge mistake—we need to move slowly. 

But the temptation is great with the bedroom not very far away; in fact, who needs a bedroom? The couch is right there, the kitchen counter top...

“I love what you did with the bathroom,” Candace says warmly, knocking me out of my charged state as I process her words, forcing me to focus. “Thank you.”

“Sure,” I say, sticking out my arm for her to take so we can get the hell out of here before I change my mind and fuck her silly.

* * *

I can barely take my eyes off of her.

I have to make a conscious effort to steer my attention elsewhere.

Candace and I are silent for most of the car ride, though she asks a few questions about the restaurant I’m taking her to.

“You look lovely, by the way,” I say, almost choking on the understatement.

“You clean up pretty well yourself,” she says with a half-smile that drops quickly.

She looks self-conscious all of a sudden, and I wonder if it has to do with the fact that she never saw me in a suit before the day of her job interview.

Maybe she thinks she has offended me, that she’d made an unintentional dig at my pauper past.

I let the silence hang for a while.

“I trust the clothing and shoes are the right sizes? If anything is off, just let me know and I’ll have it replaced,” I say eventually.

“You did a remarkable job of guessing my sizes—especially considering I’m not as thin as I once was.”

“I have some practice,“ I say flatly, leaving it there.

This certainly isn’t the first time I’ve dressed a woman.

She doesn’t seem to like my admission, but what did she expect? I didn’t exactly join a monastery after she dumped me.

It may have taken a while to accept she had left me for good, but once I realized I had to move on, I did, taking my frustrations out on one poor woman after the next, coldly using them for whatever need I had at the time. 

I eventually got kinder in my approach, but certainly not gentler.

* * *

“I did some more homework on you, and it looks like you never ended up in law school. What happened?” I ask as we await our first course.

Candace has been avoiding my eyes for some reason, glancing around the restaurant as if trying to memorize the decor inch by inch.

She is clearly uncomfortable, and I’m not sure why beyond her obvious attraction to me.

Her fingers have been tapping the table, and she seems completely unaware of it, but my question makes her fingers stop and brings those lovely brown eyes of hers to my face. 

She jams her hands in her lap.

“Once Charles and I started dating, it seemed a good idea to attend college where he was. It worked out because it was one of the schools I’d liked but hadn’t planned to go to because…”

“It would have taken you far from me. I know.”

“Right. So he was two years in already, but he and I ended up finishing up about the same time because, by the time I was done with my bachelor’s program, he was finishing his master’s at the same school. We began our new life together from there.”

“How come you guys didn’t have kids?”

“He let me know pretty early in the marriage he wasn’t interested.”

“You guys didn’t talk about it before getting married?”

“Not really. And I guess I just assumed it would happen. My fault—I should have clarified. I didn’t exactly do my due diligence back then. Anyway, he had a vasectomy, so he was damned sure about his decision.”

“So what did you do with your time? You mentioned working part-time…”

“Charity and volunteer work. Literacy programs, organizing fundraisers…”

“Do you still want kids?”

She looks startled, and it takes her a moment to respond.

“Yes,” she says quietly.

“Three?” I say with a knowing grin.

She grins back, to my relief; I don’t want everything from our past to be a landmine.

“Maybe two now that I’m a grown-up and can see better what that would mean. But I absolutely still want to be a mother.” She pauses a moment then says, “What about you? I’m assuming you have no one special right now, considering you’re here with me and…”

“And what happened the other day in my office?”

“Well, I wouldn’t necessarily assume someone’s single because of that; guys like you—rich, powerful, handsome—don’t tend to respect the usual relationship boundaries. Even guys not so rich or powerful or good-looking cheat, so…”

“I don’t cheat. I move on quickly and often. My partners are never tricked into thinking commitment is possible; I’m honest about my intentions from the get-go.”

She nods, remaining quiet for a few moments.

Our second course arrives.

“You didn’t answer me—do you still imagine settling down someday and having kids?” she asks as she starts to dig in.

“If I find the right woman, sure. Though I haven’t exactly been looking.”

She nods again, seeming to make a conscious effort to avoid my eyes as long as she can.

* * *

We find lighter things to talk about and have uninterrupted conversation for the rest of the meal, straight through a shared dessert—one I didn’t want but she made me eat half of so she didn’t get tempted to overdo the calories.

I ignore her comment about watching her figure, wishing she’d just indulged; who knows the last time she’s been able to treat herself?

The air around us remains light and pleasant as we finish up and head to the car, and I seriously can’t remember the last time I felt this way.

I’ve had lots of pleasant dates, but I never let any guards down the way I do when I’m with Candace, and feeling this relaxed heightens every emotion so that now, instead of just feeling pleased, satisfied, or contented, I feel... happy.