That evening, Travis came home the winner of a pack of tickets to a Saints game in the fall, which he’d won by bidding in the silent auction, and two tickets to see Ed Sheeran in two weeks that he’d bid on during the live auction. The Saints tickets had been approximately what he’d pay for them if he’d purchased them online, but the Ed Sheeran tickets had been incredibly expensive. However, he reasoned, the money was for finding the cure for breast cancer, so he felt it was money well spent.

His father had been ecstatic about the Saints tickets, so they had made plans to go together and ask his cousin’s boys to come with them who hadn’t been before. Since Travis was an only child, his cousin’s children were the closest thing he had to nephews. On the other hand, his mother, who he thought liked Ed’s music, had no idea who he was, so what he thought was a gift for her was now a pair of tickets to a concert he would enjoy but had no one to take to.

He lumbered into his house, thinking about all the work he needed to accomplish before Monday, but he needed some food first. The meal they’d served at the charity event had been tasty but sparse and a little too fancy for his palate. His father had announced a trip to a burger joint as they were leaving, but he wasn’t in the mood for greasy. He wanted a sub sandwich and potato chips, his favorite meal, so he’d stopped at a Jimmy John’s and ordered their tuna with no tomatoes, a bag of jalapeno chips, and a giant pickle cut into quarters. He stuck the bag in his fridge and hurried upstairs to change so he could enjoy his meal in comfort while he worked.

The new contract with Doctors Smith and Cartwright needed another read-through before he sent it to them, and he needed to start the research for contractors to put in bids to renovate the building the doctors had purchased for their stand-alone ER. After changing, he returned to the kitchen, made himself a glass of iced tea in a Yeti he’d been given as a birthday present, grabbed his dinner, and meandered down the hall to his office.

His phone beeped, announcing the arrival of an email, and the sound triggered the memory of the unsent message he’d planned for Diana. Now that time had lapsed, a touch of self-consciousness invaded his mind. What if she was simply being nice in accepting his friendship? She might not be the slightest bit interested in anything other than the informal, almost cold relationships social media offered.

No, he thought, shaking his head as he unwrapped his sandwich and pickle, laying them out on the paper before dumping the entire bag of chips next to the sandwich, which smelled heavenly. His stomach growled as he took a bite of the sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. Diana had looked at him like she wanted to see more of him, and he’d heard the longing in her voice. When she said she missed him, she’d meant it, just as he had meant it. Sending her a friendly message—a hey, it was good seeing you—was perfectly fine and would start a conversation that might lead to a dinner.

He smiled at himself, realizing that yes, he definitely wanted to see her, but the message had to begin with a friendly vibe rather than a romantic one. If she rejected him, he didn’t want to look like an idiot. He set the sandwich down and reached for his iPad plugged in behind him. He opened the messenger app, typed in her name, and stared at the blank space ready to be filled with his words.

“Well, shit,” he cursed, his mind blank. Was one sentence enough? Again, he shook his head at himself for behaving like a teenager. You were with this woman for years! Stop being an idiot! he yelled internally. He knew her better than he knew anyone, so why was writing a simple message so hard?

After another moment’s thought, he typed.

Hi, Diana. It was so great seeing you last night. You looked beautiful. I hope you’re doing well. Hope we run into each other again.

He read the note, pursed his lips, and decided it was as good as it was going to get. Sweet, lets her know I’m thinking about her and that I would like to see her again without actually asking her on a date, he decided, nodding. His finger hovered over the send arrow for a second, then he hit it and heard the little sound messenger made when a message was sent.

Can’t get it back now, he thought, laying aside his iPad and picking up his sandwich. I hope she doesn’t think I’m an idiot.

* * *

Diana had spent the day cleaning her small apartment, which meant sweeping and mopping, dusting, and laundry. What it didn’t mean was clutter. Diana notoriously left several days’ worth of mail sitting on the bar that separated her living room from the kitchen, and often she’d troop from her bedroom to the kitchen with at least five or six glasses in her hands. But her apartment smelled like the violet floor cleaner she used, and her laundry wasn’t piled up in the corner of her room taking up space.

She timed her cleaning perfectly so she could walk to the two o’clock yoga class at the yoga studio she had found in her neighborhood. Yoga had been one of the pastimes suggested to her by the addiction counselor Cameron had sent her to. The meditation, the soothing movements and music, and the release of negativity she felt after every class had helped her forget about wanting to make the next bet. Even after she’d stopped seeing the counselor, she continued yoga and tried to go at least three times a week. Saturday afternoon she was a regular, but she had to switch around the weeknights due to working late when Cameron had a particularly difficult case.

The yoga had also freed her mind from its obsession with Travis, which had fueled the gambling. Seeing him, though, had brought him to the forefront of her mind, but the thoughts weren’t obsessive. They were happy and, if she was being honest with herself, it made her happy that his Facebook revealed no relationships since they’d been together. As she moved into a new position, she wondered vaguely if he’d noticed she’d accepted his request. She lost her balance briefly, corrected, and opted to push the man out of her mind before she pulled a muscle.

When she got home, completely relaxed and feeling good, she showered and made herself a chicken salad for dinner. She settled on her couch and turned on the third season of Breaking Bad, which was her favorite so far. She binge-watched regularly and had a list of shows she wanted to watch, including the entire run of American Horror Story and the new show based on the Archie comics, Riverdale. But she had to finish all five seasons of this first.

Two shows in, she walked into the kitchen after pausing it for her single glass of red she enjoyed each night, her one indulgence. She only allowed one, sometimes two if she’d had a bad day, but that was the limit. Her Friday night out and about with Alyssa had been a rare drinking binge, but she hadn’t woken with a hangover, nor had she felt at all yucky. When she plopped back down with her wine, her phone pinged and lit up, notifying her of a Facebook message.

She nearly spilled her drink when she saw Travis Hodges as the sender. Carefully, she set her glass on the coffee table and opened the app to read the message. Smirking, she thought he’d written the perfect nonchalant dude message. Vague, but the message’s purpose was clear. He wanted her to know he was thinking about her, but he didn’t want to put too much of himself out there.

Diana thought it was adorable that he would write her a message like that, especially since they’d been together for so long. Tickled, she pondered her response. She knew for certain that he was the love of her life. But she didn’t think they could put the past completely behind them. She would have high expectations of him not working so much, which he would probably not reach, and he would always wonder if she was going to gamble away their savings. Their trust had been broken five years ago, and getting it back was a hard battle she wasn’t sure she had the strength for.

On the other hand, she mused as she reached for her glass to sip her wine. She rested the glass against her hip and switched apps to a mindless solitaire game while she thought about the pros and cons of a renewed relationship with Travis. He wouldn’t have contacted her if he didn’t want to see her, she knew that for sure. He would have liked a few of her posts, but no message would have come if he wasn’t interested in seeing her.

She switched apps again to her notes and began to type her list.

Pros: he’s the love of my life, I’ll never love someone like him, he always made me laugh, he seems to have his life together, he’s gorgeous, and he’s rich

She felt a little weird putting the last one on the list, but it definitely was a pro. She wouldn’t ask for any of it, wouldn’t spend a dime of it, though, if they were to get back together, not until he trusted her completely again. Which brought her to the cons.

Cons: he might still be a workaholic, which I’m not dealing with again, he probably wouldn’t trust me with his money, we’d probably have to go to counselling to settle all the unresolved issues

Her heart screamed at her to reply, to ask him out, to invite him over, and her heart was much louder than her brain. She read his message again and composed her answer carefully, reading it several times before pressing send. She shook her head at herself because she was so nervous, like she was talking to a new guy. But when she thought about it, the Travis she had talked to at the bar the night before was a new man, and she was a very different woman. This would be a different relationship, if one happened.

Hey, Travis, it was great seeing you, too. I’m doing very well. I work for a lawyer, Cameron Rhodens, and love it. Thank you for the compliment. You looked pretty darn sexy yourself. It would be fun to hang out.

She added a winky face emoji after the sexy line and a smiley face at the end, hoping to give the message a happy, fun tone. With a tilt of her head, she remembered that she had asked him out for their first date, and she had always been the more forward of the two. That hasn’t changed, she thought nostalgically, knowing he’d always appreciated her forwardness as she had enjoyed his shyness. She hit the send arrow, closed the app, and sat back with her wine. She had time for two more episodes if she wanted to be in bed at a decent hour, but she remembered it was Saturday, so she might indulge and watch three. She pushed play on the remote and sat back to enjoy the drug-cooking main character when her phone pinged.

Intrigued, she paused the show again, not wanting to miss a second, and checked the message. Travis had responded in under a minute to hers, which astonished her. He must have been watching his phone! she thought excitedly.

Pretty darn sexy, huh? You have such a way with words. I’m really glad you answered. I always enjoyed chatting with you.

He starts with a tease then gets into some serious shit. Diana looked around the room as if she thought she was being pranked. They hadn’t spoken at all for five years, and in two days, they were complimenting each other. He even admitted he liked chatting with her, which shouldn’t have been surprising. They had always talked easily until the last six months or so of their marriage. He was being much more forward than he had been in the past, and she liked it. Just be careful, she warned herself before answering.

DIANA: I always liked talking to you. We had fun back in the day, remember? Even when we were broke right after college. Haha!

TRAVIS: I do remember. Walking in the park and wondering around the French Quarter. Man, we saw some crazy things!

Diana laughed as she remembered.

DIANA: Remember the time we turned down the wrong alley and ended up in the whips and chains area? I didn’t know you could use a chain as a thong! My eyes were burning!

TRAVIS: I had nightmares for a week! I can’t believe we got out of there. They wanted us to hang out with them!

DIANA: Um, if I remember correctly, they wanted YOU to hang out. Not me. I was not their type.

TRAVIS: And that was before I was, as you called me, “pretty darn sexy.”

Diana laughed again, enjoying their short conversation more than any she’d had in the last year. They had an easy rapport that had spanned their separation, which had to mean something.

DIANA: You were hot back then, and you know it.

TRAVIS: You’re still hot, and you know it.

Shocked, Diana stared at the screen. He had changed, and she liked the new Travis. His aggressiveness was incredibly sexy, and she wondered if he would be as aggressive if they were in person. She wouldn’t mind finding out, but she was uncertain about asking him if he wanted to get together. What if he said no? Her indecision held her hand, and he sent another message before she could respond to his compliment.

TRAVIS: I’m sorry if that was weird.

DIANA: Not at all. I was about to say thank you.

TRAVIS: You’re welcome. So, would you be interested in possibly going to lunch with me tomorrow?

He had asked! Diana’s elation caused her to jump up and do a little dance, her earlier reservations forgotten. However, she didn’t want to appear too excited, so her answer had to be calm, almost aloof.

DIANA: I would like that.

TRAVIS: Great! Would you like me to pick you up?

Diana glanced around her little apartment and thought about the mostly decent neighborhood she lived in. The other tenants in the building were good people, and she felt safe inside. She didn’t, however, walk outside by herself after dark if she could help it. She was grateful the parking garage required a code to get in, but it was hardly safe. Anyone could walk in and wait for an unsuspecting victim, and she’d seen a few people she didn’t want to be anywhere near waiting around inside.

DIANA: How about I meet you? I have a bunch of errands to run, so I’ll be out and about.

TRAVIS: Okay, sure. Where do you want to go?

DIANA: Why don’t you decide and text me the address in the morning?

TRAVIS: Typical. Never could decide where to eat. Haha!

He added a rolling eyes emoji as well as a smirk emoji, and she giggled at his newfound silliness. Even when they’d been young, he’d never been such a joker. He hadn’t necessarily been serious all the time, but to send emojis was unlike him. She sent him six eye-rolling emojis before responding.

DIANA: You know what I like, so surprise me.

TRAVIS: I do remember. I’ll text you an address tomorrow. Send me your number.

Diana sent him her number and received a text a moment later. She quickly saved his number before answering his question. He had never changed his number, and even though she’d deleted his when she bought a new phone, the number had been engraved in her mind since the first night they’d met.

TRAVIS: Will 12:30 give you time to finish your errands?

DIANA: Better make it one.

TRAVIS: So you still lay around in bed all morning? Geez!

DIANA: So you’re still up at the crack of damn dawn? Double Geez!

TRAVIS: Love the mornings! Good night. Can’t wait to catch up.

DIANA: Same here! Good night.

Tickled, Diana dropped her phone on the couch beside her, lost in thought. He couldn’t wait to catch up with her. He wanted to see her. Giddy with excitement, Diana hopped off the couch again for another brief happy dance, which ended abruptly as she wondered what she would wear.

Oh, stop it, she chided internally as she grabbed her glass to refill it for the last time that evening. This is simply two people reconnecting after a long time. She didn’t want to get her hopes up. He might only want to be her friend, though she was pretty sure she couldn’t just be his friend. She would want more.

With a nod of her head, she decided she would go to lunch and get a feel for what he wanted from her. If friendship was all he desired, she would find reasons not to see him until he found different friends. But the big question in her mind was whether he wanted more than friendship.

“Well, you’ll have to wait and see,” Diana said aloud. With a sigh, she reached for the remote once she’d returned to the couch with her wine and hit play.

Jesse Pinkman celebrated loudly, yelling triumphantly, “Yeah, bitch!”

Diana smiled and settled in, hoping the Emmy-awarding winning show would take her mind off Travis and their impending lunch date.