A bottle of water sits in front of him with a Diet Coke beside it. Pointing at the soda before I take a seat, I say, “You don’t drink that stuff.” “No.” He eyes the can, then me. “But you do.” “You just keep Diet Coke on hand in case I show up?” He looks away, like he doesn’t want me to see him vulnerable in this moment. “Ever since you came back.”
