“I knew about your loss, Jordan.” Rowan Hale spoke as he sat across the table from his date for the evening. “It wasn’t my story to tell or to ask. It’s your story. Your past.” He kept his eyes on her. “You don’t have to explain why. Two dates isn’t enough to bare our souls and history to each other.” A sly smile slid across his lips. “That usually comes around date four or five.”

Jordan let out a small sigh. “I’m not usually nosy like that, Rowan. I think I did it because I felt something after those two dates. I wanted to know more about you without having to wait for the next date.” Their half-finished entrées lay before them, forks and knives set aside. “I still feel something.” She winced. “I have this instinct to apologize, but I know you’re going to tell me not to.”

He nodded, chuckling. “I appreciate you saving me from having to remind you. We’re two grown adults trying to figure out how our separate lives might fit together. That’s not light work.” Rowan returned to his meal, and she followed his lead. They ate in silence, finishing around the same time. Dessert came shortly afterward.

She took one bite of her brownie with ice cream on the side. “Who was she?”

He took two bites and settled back in his chair. “What I like about you is that you follow the rules someone gives you. I told you not to apologize, and you don’t hold back.” Rowan leaned forward. “Her name was Mara Ivers. Civilian structural specialist. Station and auxiliary-yard. Met her on a starbase assignment, summer of 2398.” He used his spoon to slide some ice cream onto the remaining brownie.

Reid did the same, catching an amused half-smile from Hale. “She wasn’t Starfleet.”

“She wasn’t. Part of what made it work. Married on November 2nd, 2398. Lost her March 14, 2400. Fourteen months. The best year and two months of my life.” He took a swig of the syntheholic beer on the table. “Engineering accident while I was working on an EPS conduit isolation she’d asked me to handle. Unrelated to where and what happened to her.” His face was softer, somehow. Reid felt a familiar tug across the table and put her right hand close to his on the tablecloth.

She asked, voice quiet. “You didn’t resign?”

A slow shake of his head was his initial answer. His eyes focused on her open palm, and he hesitantly placed his right hand into hers, and she slowly grasped it, gently. “I mourned, attended the funeral. And requested the next starbase cycle and then the one after.” Rowan scoffed. “I kept taking jobs because it kept me out of ready rooms and command.”

Jordan felt a snap of something in her brain. “You outworked everyone. That’s your reputation.”

For a moment, a sad smile was on his lips, and it was gone as soon as she spotted it. “I’ve always worked hard. It just got more pronounced after she died.” His eyes came back to the present, and he raised his gaze to hers. “Finding that wasn’t easy, I’m guessing. I kept most of it away from the media and ensured her funeral was private.”

Reid noticed he hadn’t removed his hand from hers. She felt his grip tighten ever so slightly, almost like a brief embrace. She replied, “It wasn’t easy. I just had to know.”

He scooped the remains of his brownie and ice cream off the plate, finishing with a contented sigh. “Yours was easier to find. Ambrose Harris.” She could tell he was watching her reaction to the name. It didn’t offend her.

“There was my life before him, and my life after him. Same thing with Mara?” A knowing nod was his reply. Jordan continued. “We didn’t have time to get married. He died before that could have happened.”

His voice was firm and warm. “Just because you didn’t get a ring doesn’t change the validity of your loss, Jordan.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Fair. I needed to hear that.”

Hale nodded at her plate. She’d cleaned it. He said, “Third date. Old ghosts are out in the open.” He focused his eyes on hers. “I like you, Jordan Reid. First date, I wanted a second. Second date, wanted a third. Third date, I’d like a fourth chance to spend some more time with you.”

“Straight to the point, Rowan Hale. I like that about you.” She leaned back in her chair, taking him in one last time. “I like you, Rowan Hale. I’d like a fourth date. Maybe a few more. You make it easy, and I can’t say that’s been the case always.”

Hale’s sly smile broke loose. “Long as you don’t accuse me of being easy.” He chuckled at her eye – rolled reply. “I think it’d be nice to do this again. And a few more times. Maybe more.”

Jordan replied, “I’d like that.” She glanced at the table and the rest of the restaurant. “Can you walk me to the Southampton? I don’t want to say goodbye here.”

He stood and put out his arm. “I’d like that. Goodbyes are better at doorways, anyway.”

Jordan stood and slid her arm into his. “Then let’s go find a doorway. Or two.”