I just fucking hate that I’m twenty-one and don’t have my life figured out.” She laughs softly. “Reid, you’re twenty-one. No one expects you to have it figured out.” “Well, I do. I bet you knew what you were doing at this age.” She hums. “At twenty-one, I was dating the man I’d eventually marry and on track to be a lawyer. Need I remind you that I’m divorced and not practicing law anymore? I don’t think you’re making the point that you believe you are.” I stare glumly into my coffee. “Touché.”
