“Do you feel like having dinner? We might be able to find something that’s still open.”

“I’m stuffed,” she said, “But how about a cocktail?”

“Do you have a favorite watering hole?”

“Russ, I’m the mother of a five-year-old. I don’t get out much. But I’ve heard that Fahrenheit has stunning views and fire pits. And since it’s chilly tonight, sitting by a fire sounds perfect.”

“I just took London there for date night.”

“Great minds think alike.”

Soon thereafter, we found ourselves at Fahrenheit’s rooftop bar, warming ourselves before a glowing fire pit and taking in the carpet of city lights below. I ordered two glasses of wine from a passing cocktail waitress.

Emily sat swaddled in her cashmere wrap, eyes half closed, her expression serene. She looked extraordinarily beautiful in the rosy glow of the firelight, and when she noticed me staring, she gave a lazy smile.

“I remember that look,” she said. “You used to stare at me like that way back when… a million years ago.”

“Yeah?”

“Sometimes it gave me goose bumps.”

“But not anymore, right?”

Her coy shrug told me otherwise.

“I know I’ve said that I’m glad you’ve come into my life…”

When I stopped, she raised her eyes to look at me. “But?”

I decided to tell the truth. “I’m not sure I’m ready for a relationship.”

For a moment she said nothing. “All right,” she murmured finally, with the faintest echo of regret.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because I’ve been calling too much. Maybe leading you to think that I was ready when I know I’m not. I’m still an emotional wreck at times. I still think about Vivian way too much. Not that I want her back, because I’ve realized that I don’t. But she’s still front and center, in a way that’s not healthy. And you’ve been so generous – listening to me when I’m down, offering endless emotional support. And best of all, making me laugh…”

When I trailed off, I could feel her eyes inspecting me. “Have I ever complained that you call too much? Or that your confidences are a burden?”

I shook my head, feeling as if some epiphany were trying to surface in my chaotic brain, like an air bubble rising through water. “No,” I said, “you haven’t.”

“You’re describing a scenario in which you haven’t offered me anything in return. But you have.” The reddish tints in her dark hair glinted in the firelight as she pushed it away from her face. Leaning toward me, she said, “I like hearing from you, whether you’re in a good mood or not. I like knowing that I can talk to you about anything, that you’ll understand because we once shared a history. I like feeling that you know the real me, faults and all.”

“You don’t have any faults,” I said. “None that I can see, anyway.”

She gave a snort of disbelief. “Are you kidding? No one’s perfect, Russ. I like to think I’ve learned some lessons over the past decade, and maybe, I’m more patient than I used to be. But I’m far from perfect.”

The waitress delivered our wine, and in the silence that followed, our thoughts seemed to take a more serious turn. Emily took a sip of wine, and when she turned toward me again, I thought I saw a flash of vulnerability cross her face.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I know I’m probably putting a damper on the evening.”

“Not at all,” she said. “It means so much that you’re honest with me, Russ. I think that’s what I like most about you. You’re not afraid to tell me things – that you’re hurting, that you’re afraid of failure, that you’re not ready for a relationship. You don’t realize how hard it is for some people to say such things. David never could. I never knew what he was really feeling – half the time, I don’t think he even did. But with you, it’s different. You’re so open. I always admired that about you, and it hasn’t changed.” She paused, as if uncertain whether to go on. “I really like you, Russ. You’re good for me.”

“That’s the thing, Emily. I don’t just like you… I think I’m in love with you.”

My words seem to electrify her. “You think?”

“No,” I said with growing certainty. “I am in love with you. It feels strange to say that when I know I’m not really ready to take further steps, but that’s how I feel.” For a moment I stared into the fire, trying to summon my courage. “I’m not the kind of guy you should love. You can do a lot better than me. Maybe in time…”

Saying the words hurt more than I anticipated and I broke off, feeling a knot forming in my throat.

In the silence, Emily stared at me. Then she reached over and laid her open hand on my leg, beckoning for me to take it. I did, feeling a flood of warmth and encouragement as her fingers intertwined with my own.

“Did you think that I might be in love with you, too?”

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I’m not just saying it, Russ. I know what love feels like. Maybe I’ve always loved you – God knows I loved you once with every fiber of my being. I don’t think that kind of feeling just goes away – it leaves its mark on you.” She held my gaze, her voice gentle. “I’m okay with waiting until you’re ready. Because I like what we have now. I like that you’ve become one of my closest friends. And I know how much you care for me. Do you remember what I said about friendship? ‘It’s about someone who walks into your life, says I’m here for you, and then proves it.’ ”