On my thirtieth birthday, my mother-in-law raised a toast with the words: «To our silly girl from a poor family who lives off our money», and my husband started laughing loudly at that. Then my father stood up from the table and did something that made my mother-in-law freeze in place…

Yes, especially the one about the children’s hospice; I even transferred money to their account after reading. We talked about books we’d read, movies we’d seen, places we’d visited in this time. And gradually I realized it was really interesting with this new Kyle.

He’d become deeper, more sincere, more open. When dessert was served, I resolved to ask the question bothering me all evening. «Kyle, how are your relations with your parents now? You said they deteriorated after our divorce.»

He set aside his fork and sighed. With Dad, they’ve improved; he even invested in my startup, but on my terms: as an equal partner, not a benefactor. «And with Mom? Still complicated?» Yes; she can’t forgive me for not fighting for our marriage, for letting you go, and for openly blaming her for our breakup.

«You did that?» I couldn’t hide surprise. Yes, he nodded; told her everything I think about her behavior, how she treated you, your parents, how she manipulated me all these years; and how did she react. First furious, then tried to play victim, and when she saw it didn’t work, just stopped talking to me, still doesn’t except for necessities.

«I’m sorry,» I said, and it was true. «Don’t be,» he smiled weakly. «Relations with Mom are my problem, and I have to solve it myself.

Sooner or later, she’ll accept I’m no longer the mama’s boy I was.» When dinner ended, we left the restaurant into a warm summer night. Kyle offered to walk me home, and I agreed.

We walked quiet streets, talking about trifles, and I felt surprisingly easy with him, as if we were really old friends, without the heavy baggage of the past. At my house door, we stopped. «Thanks for the evening,» Kyle said, «it was very nice seeing you.»

Me too; I smiled. Surprisingly, but true. He looked at me with such tenderness that for a moment my heart fluttered.

«Paula,» he said quietly, «I know it’s over between us, know you don’t love me anymore.» And I’m not asking for a second chance for us, but maybe, maybe we could keep in touch sometimes, not as ex-spouses, but as people who have something to say to each other. I thought.

Even a week ago, I’d have refused immediately, but now, after this evening, the thought of occasionally seeing Kyle didn’t seem so impossible. «Maybe,» I said cautiously, «let’s not plan ahead; you’re leaving, we each have our lives, but if you want to write or call, I’ll answer.» His face brightened; thanks; that’s more than I hoped.

He didn’t try to kiss or hug goodbye; just smiled and went to his car; I watched him, feeling a strange mix of emotions: sadness about what could have been if he’d changed earlier, and hope that perhaps we both would find some new form of relationship, healthier and honest. Kyle flew out three days later; before leaving, he met my parents; I wasn’t present at their talk, but Dad later said Kyle sincerely apologized and thanked for the lesson he got that evening. «He’s really changed,» Dad said, «and I think for the better.»

Life went on; I worked, spent time with parents and friends, sometimes went on dates, though no serious relationships formed. Kyle wrote me emails, told about his life in London, about the project developing more successfully. I replied: shared news, thoughts, impressions from books and movies.

Gradually, these letters became an important part of my life. We discussed everything: from politics to philosophy, from art to technology. I discovered Kyle from a completely new side: as a smart, thoughtful conversationalist with whom you can talk on any topic.

Then, about a year after our dinner, I got a strange letter from him. «Paula, I have a proposal, but I’m afraid you’ll think it’s crazy. Can I call?» I replied yes, of course.

He called that evening. «Hi,» he said, and I heard excitement in his voice. «How are you?» «Good; and you?» «What’s the mysterious proposal?» He took a deep breath.

Our startup got big funding. We’re expanding, opening offices in different countries, and I’m heading the Eastern Europe direction. Congratulations! That’s wonderful! Thanks! And, I need a good journalist to help with PR, covering our activities.

Someone who can write deep, insightful articles about social issues. I suddenly understood where he was going. «Kyle, you’re offering me a job.»

Yes; he sounded almost guilty. I know it might seem strange, given our history. But I really think you’re perfect for this position.

And, it’d be nice to work with you. I was silent, considering his proposal. Working with Kyle, after everything.

On the other hand, the project sounded interesting, and over the last year, our communication had become almost friendly. «I need to think,» I said finally. «It’s a serious decision.»..