FLOYD IS FULL OF ENERGY, and very curious. He’s still a young dog, only two years old. He’s already done his business, so he’s happy. Every now and then, he stops to smell something. I’m just as curious as he is. Although I’m not stooping to sniff benches, my gaze darts around Eli’s very interesting neighborhood. I snap photos with my phone; the cool buildings, quirky coffee shops, colorful street art, and the vibe and energy of the place; young families, fellow dog walkers, artists carrying large canvases and boxes of who-knows-what.

“How long have you lived here?” I ask him. I want to know more about him — I want to know everything.

“Well, I’ve been at Albert’s for two years. He took me in right after the break-up, and he gave me Floyd to cheer me up. I was in a really bad place.”

“Really?! Albert is awesome.”

He smiles wide. “Yeah, he’s a great friend. We’ve known each other for years, and it’s thanks to him that I’ve been so successful getting in the shops.”

“Cool.”

“But I’ve lived in Copenhagen for over twelve years. I met Clara right out of college when I was out here on a backpacking trip with my buddies, and fell head over heels. Or head over hiking boots, to be more accurate.”

I smile at his bad joke, and my insides drop a little at the thought of him being so madly in love with this woman. I wonder if he’s over her yet — I bet not. I decide to change the focus of the conversation because I really don’t want to hear about Clara. “Wow, twelve years is a long time. Do you miss your family?”

Floyd tugs at him when he becomes particularly interested in a newspaper box. “Well, I don’t know my father, and as you know… my mom…”

“Yeah, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have asked.” That’s just like me — I can be so nosy sometimes.

“No, it’s fine. Well, there’s my sister, and she still lives in my hometown. We used to be super close when we were young. We were practically inseparable, but then, the whole thing with my mom happened.”

I desperately want to know what happened, but I don’t want to pry. “That must have been hard,” I offer, not quite knowing what else to say.

“Well, when my mom was diagnosed with cancer, I was already here with Clara, and married. We were thinking about having a baby. I couldn’t be there for my mom. I couldn’t do that to Clara. I wanted Clara to give me an out. I wanted her to say ‘go be with your mother. I can wait,’ but she never did. I knew she’d be angry if I left her to be with my mom.”

“That’s awful,” I say. “I would have let you go.”

He smiles. “I know… that’s the person you are. But Clara, she was never close to her parents so she didn’t understand. And she wanted to start a family.”

“You must have been close to your mother,” I say. Something tells me he was.

We meet another couple with a dog, a black and white furry thing. The dogs sniff each other, and we exchange pleasantries.

“Have a nice day,” Eli says as we leave them.

“Yeah,” he says. “My mom and us kids were incredibly close. We were all best friends. I think that’s pretty common with single moms.”

His words tear at my heart — it’s so true. It was for me anyway. “I know exactly what you mean. My sister and I and my mom were inseparable too. My dad left us when I was a baby. I don’t even remember him. Deadbeat dad.”

He smiles, but it’s a bittersweet grin. “We have a lot in common, you and me.”

“It’s true,” I agree. “We both had deadbeat dads… we’ve both lost our moms... and we’re both artists.” I look down at Floyd. “And we both love dogs,” I add with a smile.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he says. “I love cats too.”

“Oh, that’s good, because I don’t think we could be friends if you didn’t.” I smile at my words. I know that we’re more than friends, and I also know that he’ll never meet my little Elsie.

“Anyway, like I mentioned before, when my mom went downhill, my sister called me, and I took the first flight out. I had… one day with her,” he says and his voice cracks. I pray he’s not going to start crying because I’m not sure I can handle that. “One fucking day,” he goes on, “after all she’s done for me. She raised me and my sister as a single mom with no money. She was always strong for us, and always made us smile. We never had fancy clothes, traveled or ate out because we just couldn’t afford it, but we would dance in the living room, make cupcakes and cook, watch silly sitcoms, and play card games. And what do I do?”

I’m speechless.

“I leave her and move across the ocean to be with some girl who steals my heart, and then cheats on me.” His voice is hoarse. “I should have been with my mom. She deserved more than one day. You know how many times I came back to visit her throughout the years?”

I don’t know what to say.

“Three times,” he says. “And she came to see me only once. She couldn’t afford more.”

This is so heartbreaking.

“I resented Clara so much when I came back, I just couldn’t love her anymore. That’s when it all went downhill for us. We stopped having sex, we stopped talking, and playing… no wonder she cheated on me.”

The man desperately needs a hug, but we’re walking down the street with the dog. And… fuck it.

“Eli,” I say and stop. He stills, and Floyd jerks on his leash, a confused expression on his furry face. I reach for Eli, and stand on the tip of my toes, wrap my arms around him. He squeezes me tightly. “I understand you,” I tell him. “I feel exactly the same about my mother.” I’m crying now — I just can’t help it. Our stories are so similar, it’s insane. He doesn’t let go, I know we must look odd standing in the middle of the sidewalk like this. I wonder if we were meant to meet, if Eli and I are more than chance, if we are destiny.

Floyd tugs at us and yelps. I reluctantly let go. “I’m sorry… I just had to do that.”

He smiles, his beautiful eyes wet. “I’m glad you did. I needed that.”

We set out walking again. Floyd shoots us both a look, as if to say, “We’re walking here people, get with the program.”

“I’ll tell you about my mom one day,” I promise. As I utter the words, my heart sinks. ‘One day’ will have to be soon since we don’t have many days left.

“I’d like that,” he says.

After a beat, he turns to me, and in the light of mid-afternoon, he’s so perfect. I thought he was stunning when I first saw him, but every day spent with him makes him more beautiful to me. What’s inside is just as amazing as what’s outside. So great in fact, I can hardly stand it. “Tell me about your kids,” he says.

I think about Emma and Theo. I check my watch, and know they are still in school this very minute. Soon, John will pick them up from school. That’s usually my job, and I miss it. It’s my favorite part of the day. “They’re amazing. Sweet as pie.”

He smiles. “Well, no wonder,” he says. “Just look at who they take after.”

I laugh. “Oh, you flatter me too much.”

“They’re great because they have a great mom,” he says. “I mean that.”

“Well, it’s true,” I agree. “I mean, just look at you. You obviously had a great mom, and I think you’re the sweetest human being I’ve ever met.”

He blushes.

“But I can’t take full credit,” I tell him. “John might not be faithful, and a bit of a workaholic, but he’s a great dad. I can’t fault him on that.”

Eli’s face falls, and I know I shouldn’t have mentioned John. “I just...” I stammer. “I just… when I met John, I knew he’d be a good dad, and a good provider, and it was what I was looking for. I didn’t want my kids to have a deadbeat dad, and didn’t want them to want for anything. I wanted them to have decent lunches; fruit, cheese, real milk, and not have to suffer through the winters with worn boots, like I did. My mother was wonderful, but we struggled so much.”

Eli seems shocked by my words. It’s hard to believe, looking at me, with my designer clothing, giant rock on my finger, and a watch that costs more than a small car. It’s hard to believe I was ever hungry. I probably had it worse than he did. A school scholarship and a man saved me. A man I’ll be going back to in four or five days.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. “I had no idea.”

We’re silent for a beat, but before long, Eli says, “Tell me about them… your kids.”

I tell him all about them. I tell him about Theo’s piano lessons, and current obsession with Legos, and how he absolutely refuses to eat anything green. I tell him about Emma’s dancing, and her new fascination with nail polish. “We have about a hundred bottles. Sparkles, metallic, glossy, in every color of the rainbow.”

“I used to love wearing nail polish,” he confesses.

I crack up. “Really?!”

“Well, you know, I grew up with just a mom and an older sister. I didn’t know any better. I always cleaned it off before stepping out of the house.”

I find this ridiculously funny. “I’m picturing you as a kid, with red toenails. You’re adorable.”

“Oh, I was.”

“It all makes sense now,” I say. “You’re not a typical man; not into sports and cars. You love cooking and you have remarkable good taste for a man… the way you dress, and your bedroom is gorgeous.”

“Totally not gay, though,” he jokes. “Just so you know.”

“Oh, I know.”

When we get back to his place, Eli makes me a delicious charcuterie platter with cheese and meats and fancy olives, and something he calls Moscow Mules, served in cool copper mugs. They’re freaking delicious, spicy ginger beer and lime.

“I think this might be my new favorite drink,” I tell him.

“I can’t wait to show you my studio,” he says. “I’ve got a few things to do,” he adds. “I wanted to take the whole week off to be with you, but I just need to finish this order. Do you want to come and bring a book?”

“Sure, I’ll bring my iPad,” I tell him. “I’m reading a book right now.”