They were lead to a four top table. She quickly scanned the restaurant to see if a booth was available. They had been given the best option. She chose her seat, placing her purse in the chair to her right. Instead of sitting across from her as she intended, he pulled the chair to her left. She started to protest but decided to remain silent. His chosen seat would allow her better cover from his inevitable inquiry.

The waiter introduced himself and asked if they'd been there before. She nodded in affirmation and inwardly sighed at the unintentional irony. They gave their drink orders and were left alone to review the menu. She was not in the least bit hungry. The waiter returned with alcoholic drinks (she needed the courage) and they placed their order.

Filling the silence he asked how she thought the previous hours felt. She admitted she had worked hard, and she smiled because she knew she had nailed it. She was very satisfied with her obvious improvement, and his matching smile told her he was in agreement. She could see the pride registered on his face and in his voice as he talked to the waiter who was setting down full plates.

She could not match his gusto as he dug into his food. Instead, she held her drink in her hands, thankful for the condensation of the glass. She busied herself with clearing the frost. She could hear him chewing.

The pretending she had done earlier had taken a toll on her. She could no longer be anyone but the raw core of herself. She knew he was watching her; knew his question was imminent. As he put down his fork and wiped his mouth with the thick black napkin, she could no longer contain herself. A tear grazed her cheek. Her breath stilled as his voice queried.

She reached for her own napkin as her shoulders started to quake. Cloth napkins do not absorb well, she errantly thought. She dabbed at her eyes, attempting to salvage her mascara, and finally met his gaze.

She caught his slight intake of breath at the conflict and pain marring her face. In his eyes she could see she had confirmed his fear; one he'd expressed within the first month, and again the previous summer. She started crying; burying her face in the impermeable napkin.

His one word response, a man's name, was not a question. Still, she nodded.

He finished his drink in a single gulp, and motioned for the waiter. She struggled to regain control of her frail emotions. He quickly paid the bill and reached for her hand. He did not want to provide further dinner conversation for the other patrons. They walked wordlessly to her car.

She turned to face him in the passenger's seat. She started to apologize and offer up the honesty in her head, but tears erupted again at the sight of his damp eyes. She miserably wondered if there was something seriously wrong with her that she could be the impetus for such grief. A line from a movie, something about shooting horses, flitted in her memory.

He finally spoke, a question posed to her in the present tense. She raised and dropped her shoulders in an answer befitting a teenager. He looked at her, and saw that her confusion was honest, but he knew there was more. Gently he pressed her, vowing to listen with an open heart and mind.

She softly admitted to a lack of a definitive answer. She whispered of many months spent in consistent anguish; crying, pondering, questioning and praying. She was afraid of her possible feelings; terrified she was a textbook example. She spoke of vain attempts to align her heart and her head. Defeated, she again met his eyes. Amid the flashes of anger and hurt she recognized the emotion she felt she was not worthy. Tears sprang anew.

He despised the warring inside her; hated that she was so full of doubt of herself. He wished for her to clearly see! Still, he understood he could not accompany her; this battle was hers alone to fight. There need be only one victor and he whispered his hope that it would be her.

Tears subsided, and she reached her hand toward him. He fit his palm within hers and pushed all his strength through to her. She squeezed back; a gesture that provided both with reassurance. They both knew they would be okay.