What Kind of Man

Sunday morning sunlight spilled through the front windows of Sally's Kitchen, bathing the restaurant in warm gold and making every polished surface gleam. The place felt cheerful in a way Roy hadn't expected. Yellow walls. Framed paintings of prairie landscapes. Hanging plants near the windows. A display case filled with muffins and cinnamon buns that looked homemade rather than manufactured.

Comfort food made physical.

It wasn't somewhere Roy would've found on his own. When he'd woken up beside Elaine that morning, tangled together beneath the blankets, she had asked what his plans were.

"Breakfast with Jessica," he'd admitted, feeling strangely guilty despite having done nothing wrong by the standards of whatever bizarre reality he now inhabited.

Elaine had only smiled.

"Then take her somewhere nice."

"I don't actually know anywhere nice."

That had earned him a laugh.

"Claire introduced me to Sally's Kitchen a few months ago. It's lovely. Bright. Friendly. Good coffee. Tell Jessica I recommended it."

Roy had smiled.

"I think you'd like her."

"I already do," Elaine had said. "When do I get to meet her?"

The question still lingered in his mind as he stepped through the restaurant doors. When did girlfriends start wanting to meet other girlfriends? Under normal circumstances that sentence would've sounded completely absurd. Instead, it sounded... pleasant. Comforting. Natural.

That was perhaps the strangest part of the wish. Not that multiple women loved him. Not that he loved them back. It was how little conflict existed between them. No jealousy. No possessiveness. No competition. Just affection. Acceptance. Support.

His parents had modelled monogamy. Healthy monogamy. Stable monogamy. Roy had grown up assuming one person found another person and that was that.

Now he was in love with three women.

Maybe one day there would be four. Or five.

And somehow it felt increasingly normal. Dangerously normal.

Jessica complicated things further. She was wonderful. Funny. Smart. Beautiful. Easy to spend time with.

Yet Roy knew exactly what he should do. He should free her. Sooner rather than later. Every additional day she remained attached to him represented more time stolen from her life. More time spent loving a man she had never actually chosen.

The trouble was that he had discovered something unpleasant about himself. He liked having breathing room.

Last night with Elaine had only happened because he hadn't immediately resolved Jessica's situation. Because he'd allowed himself a pause. Allowed himself to experience love instead of constantly scrambling from one magical catastrophe to the next.

Selfish. Absolutely selfish.

But what was the alternative?

There wasn't a morally clean path through any of this. The feelings were real. Michelle loved him. Elaine loved him. Zara loved him. Jessica loved him. Even Ava's feelings had been real to her while she'd been with him.

The magic didn't fabricate fake emotions. It rewrote reality until those emotions became sincere. And the only way to free people was through intimacy. Physical intimacy.

Which brought Roy right back to the same impossible question he'd been wrestling with all week. Could consent truly exist when reality itself had been altered? He still didn't know. He wasn't sure he ever would.

Movement near the far side of the restaurant interrupted his thoughts. Jessica stood. A smile illuminated her entire face.

God.

She really was stunning. Blue skirt. Sleeveless top. Hair pulled back into a ponytail that somehow made her look younger and more sophisticated at the same time. Confidence radiated from her effortlessly. Not arrogance. Certainty. The certainty of someone who had spent years fighting for her place in the world and had finally decided she deserved to occupy it.

Roy found himself smiling back.

She crossed the distance between them before he reached the table and bent her head down just enough to kiss him. Warm. Familiar. Natural. Like they'd been doing this for years.

"There you are," she said, her lips brushing his, her brown eyes threatening to drown him.

"There I am."

Jessica squeezed his hand.

"I still catch myself not believing we're together."

Roy laughed softly.

"Yeah?"

"Oh, absolutely."

Her expression softened.

"How did I get to be so lucky?"

"I'm pretty sure I'm the lucky one."

"Oh, sure."

She rolled her eyes dramatically.

"A smart, kind, loving, attractive man takes a divorced middle-aged single mother out for breakfast."

A hand touched her chest.

"I'm practically a charity case."

Roy blinked. He genuinely couldn't tell if she was joking. She was gorgeous. Intimidatingly gorgeous. Smart enough to fill an entire dinner conversation without repeating herself. Successful. Elegant. Funny. Who exactly had convinced this woman she was anything less than extraordinary?

"Agree to disagree," Roy said.

Jessica laughed.

"Fair."

Then she slid back into her seat, smiled, then asked, "So what's good here?"

"I'm not sure," Roy answered, sitting down opposite her.

"This place was your suggestion."

"Elaine said it was good."

The words slipped out before Roy thought about them. Instant panic. He looked up. Nothing. No jealousy. No irritation. Only curiosity.

"Ah," Jessica smiled. "Did she have a recommendation, then?"

"Eggs Benedict."

"And what are you ordering?"

"Blueberry pancakes."

"Excellent."

Jessica lifted her menu.

"I'll trust Elaine's judgment."

Roy chuckled.

"Oh?"

"She has excellent taste in men." A grin spread across her face. "Let's see if the breakfast standards are equally high."

Conversation came easily to the pair. Jessica talked about work first. Apparently the upcoming week was going to be chaos. Three closings. A dispute over easements. A client convinced zoning regulations were optional suggestions rather than binding legal realities.

"I spend a surprising amount of time explaining to people that owning property doesn't make them feudal lords."

Roy laughed.

"People really think that?"

"Constantly."

Coffee in hand, she shifted effortlessly into discussing books.

"I'm apparently on a Margaret Atwood streak."

"Oh?"

"I loved The Handmaid's Tale." A pause. "Cat's Eye didn't quite land for me though. Brilliant writing. Just not my favourite."

Then architecture. Jessica gestured vaguely toward the window.

"I love older neighbourhoods. Character matters. Homes should feel like they've accumulated stories." A small smile appeared. "New developments feel too efficient. Like they don't feel lived in."

And, inevitably, Ava.

"My daughter has such a bright future ahead of her." Warmth filled Jessica's expression. "She's clever. Compassionate. Ridiculously determined. Surprisingly innocent, for her age."

Roy nearly choked on his coffee. Images from last night flashed unhelpfully through his mind.

Ava in her grey-and-pink workout outfit. Ava climbing into the car. Ava with her head in his lap...

Jessica continued obliviously.

"Watching her become a woman has been beautiful. And terrifying."

Roy nodded, pushing the invading images of Ava away from his consciousness.

"I imagine that's hard."

"It is."

She stared into her coffee for a moment.

"For so long I defined myself as a young lawyer. The ambitious woman trying to prove herself. The one pushing boundaries. The one fighting her way upward." Jessica smiled faintly. "And now I'm maintaining. Supporting. Watching younger women start their own battles." Her shoulders lifted. "It's strange. I don't feel old. But I do feel different."

She took another sip of coffee, her eyes taking on a distant look.

"Ava is growing up. She's going to move out eventually. And for the first time in twenty years I'll actually be alone."

Silence lingered. Then she looked up. And smiled at him.

"Or at least I thought I would be."

Roy listened quietly. Jessica's voice softened.

"My ex-husband ruined relationships for me. He lied. He cheated. He made me feel foolish for trusting someone. So I stopped trusting. Stopped hoping. Stopped trying." A small laugh escaped her. "I built walls. Very impressive walls. Architecturally sound. Emotionally reinforced concrete."

Roy smiled.

"But then you happened."

Her eyes held his.

"You cracked them open. I don't say that because I expect anything from you. I know your life is full. I know you love other women. And honestly? I love that about you. It tells me what kind of man you are."

"What kind of man am I?"

"Loyal. Generous. Capable of loving deeply," Jessica, said, shaking her head. "I spent years feeling like someone's leftovers. Like I was damaged. Like maybe I had missed my chance. But you..."

Emotion thickened her voice.

"You looked at me like I was worth loving. And it feels good. It feels dignified. Clean. To be honest, I'm happier than I've been in years."

Roy hadn't even realized he'd reached across the table until he was holding her hands. Warm hands. Strong hands. Lawyer's hands. Mother's hands. Beautiful woman's hands. He lifted them gently and kissed her knuckles.

Jessica blinked.

"You want to know what I think? I think that anyone who doesn't think you're beautiful, intelligent, funny, charming, sexy, and genuinely fascinating is an idiot," a smile tugged at Roy's lips. "And I'm pretty sure you're not an idiot. "So maybe stop trying to prove me wrong."

Jessica laughed. Actually laughed. Bright. Joyful. Unrestrained.

Then she leaned forward and kissed him. Just a quick kiss. Soft. Sweet. Perfectly timed.

When she settled back into her seat, she looked at him as though he were something miraculous.

"How did I ever find you, Roy Robinson?"

She smiled warmly.

"I don't remember finding a lucky rabbit's foot. And I certainly don't remember making a wish." Her fingers squeezed his. "But thank you for being part of my life."

Roy felt himself blush.

"I'm pretty sure I should be thanking you."

"Sorry to interrupt."

Both looked up. A waitress stood beside the table holding a notepad.

"Have you had a chance to look at the menu?"

Roy glanced toward Jessica. Then back at the waitress.

"Yeah."

He smiled.

"I think we're ready."