I let out a self-deprecating laugh, pushed back my chair, forcing him to move, and stood up. I said bitterly, "Don't say it's because you like me. Or, God help me, you love me. You needed Daniel to remind you of my birthday. You need Tom to tell you what I like for breakfast."

"It's my fault," he began guiltily, putting his arms out, imploring. His tone was both remorseful and gentle. "I didn't understand you well enough before. I only thought you were independent and tough, but I ...