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“You can ask.”
I hated how calm he was.
“Ask what?”
“Whatever you’re trying not to ask.”
“I’m not trying not to ask anything.”
His mouth twitched. “That was a very complicated sentence.”
I took a sip of wine. “Fine. Are y’all good?”
“Me and my ex?”
“Yes.”
“We co-parent well.”
I lowered my glass. “Meaning?”
“Meaning we can be in the same room without anybody throwing hands.”
“That’s a low expectation.”
“Divorce lowers your expectations.”
I laughed. “How often do y’all talk?”
“Almost every day because of Eli.”
“Any unresolved feelings?”
“No.”
“Any chance y’all get back together?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Like final-final?”
He stared at me and I stared back. Then he laughed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Say it.”
“You’re checking for trapdoors.”
My smile disappeared. “I just like clarity.”
“I understand.”
