She reached out a hand and lightly brushed mine on the counter. “But I’m happy that you’re enjoying life.” I was silent. “You are happy, aren’t you?” she asked. “I don’t know. At least I’m not unhappy, and I’m not lonely.” A moment later, I added, “But sometimes the thought strikes me that the happiest time of my life was when we were together in your living room, listening to music.”
