On their fifth date, Emina had already chosen the restaurant exit opening directly onto a busy street. People usually said quick goodbyes there, with someone behind them already holding the door. She liked Vahid. She laughed at his stories, remembered when he worked the late shift, and imagined showing him the little cove from her childhood. Only the end of the evening turned that pleasure into calculations of distance.
She did not enjoy kissing. There was no former partner about whom she needed to tell a terrible story, and no hidden person she wanted more. That particular touch simply did not usually feel pleasant. Previously she had endured it and waited for it to end, afraid that any discussion would conclude with the claim that she had not found the right man. Now she was forty-four and had little patience left for such tests.
That evening Vahid noticed her stiffen when he removed a thread from her shoulder. He withdrew his hand. "If you don't find me attractive, you can tell me," he said quietly. Emina knew she could no longer blame crowds, cold weather, or an early appointment. She told him she wanted to be close to him but did not enjoy kisses. As she spoke, she watched his hand beside the glass, a hand she actually wanted to hold.
He asked whether that meant she wanted no touching at all. She said it did not and offered him her hand. He did not immediately smile or produce the perfect sentence. He said he liked kissing and needed a little time to think. Emina felt disappointed, but also relieved to be talking to a man allowed to have wishes of his own. She did not offer the possibility that enough patience would finally change her.
Two days later he invited her for a walk. They met beside the sports field and first discussed his broken oven. Only when they reached the trees did he ask whether he could link arms with her. She found that formal gesture unexpectedly appealing. She also told him she liked someone resting their forehead against hers. They tried, laughed at their own seriousness, and kept walking before a passerby had to divert around them.
That evening they did not settle everything they might someday miss. They arranged another meeting and promised not to conceal discomfort behind politeness. Outside her building Emina remained standing, without her key already prepared in her hand. She hugged him for as long as she wanted. Vahid did not wait for something afterward. When she went inside, she sent him the address of the cove. It was a plan for summer, still entirely possible.