I looked at him and thought about the difference between a man who tells you what you want to hear and a man who tells you the truth even when it might cost him.
“I’d like that too,” I said.
It wasn’t a grand romantic moment.
It was something better.
A beginning.
Small.
Honest.
Real.
Months later, while driving to a meeting, I passed the house Daniel and I once shared.
I didn’t slow down.
I didn’t feel sad.
It was just another house.
The life I once imagined there had already moved elsewhere.
Into my work.
My friendships.
My company.
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