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“Why the hell would he not want you to ever know about him?”

“So I couldn’t come after him and his money as an adult, I guess. Oh, don’t look so shocked. He was married, rich, white, and well respected. And he knocked up his young black maid. My mom admitted she fell for his charm and smooth tongue, even though she knew better. Predictably, when she told him she was pregnant, he broke it off. It didn’t matter that she loved him. He never talked to her again, except through lawyers.”

I’m furious on behalf of Nia and her mother. “His behavior was irresponsible and unforgivable.”

“Cowardly and short-sighted, too.” She shrugs. “When I was a kid, I used to play with other children and be envious of their really involved daddies. My mom always claimed his absence in my life was a blessing in disguise. Maybe it was, but it never felt that way. I’ve always wanted that typical TV-perfect family, you know? Hell, any family at all. I still do.”

“I guess we both wanted family growing up because neither of us had an ideal childhood.”

“Probably. So…if we both want family, does that mean you still want kids? After everything that’s happened, do you see yourself having children with your second wife? Maybe with me?”

It’s a question I should be prepared for. I’ve been asked if I still want children, and I thought I knew the answer. I want family…but I don’t feel anywhere near ready to risk conceiving a tiny human with my DNA, only to possibly lose him or her again. Becca’s absence in my life has been difficult. But as November came and I was confronted with the due date of the infant I’d never get to hold, I’ve been wracked by pain and guilt. Why did I survive while my wife and child died?

“Not this soon after losing Becca and the baby. Maybe in a few years.” But even the thought of it terrifies me. “Maybe never.”

Nia softens. “You’ve been through a lot, Evan. I know. I’ve watched you struggle, and I hurt for you.”

“Thank you for picking up a lot of slack in the office when I couldn’t.”

“It was my job and my pleasure. But if you seriously want to marry me, I have to be honest. I’m eventually going to want kids, at least two. If you’re not sure you’ll ever be ready for that, this won’t work. I also want a man who can tell me he loves me and mean it. Not today. Not even next week. But someday. I’m not sure that’s you. Your childhood was rough, and no one gave you the affection you deserved. Becca didn’t need to hear how you felt, but I do. If that’s a problem, I should call your other four candidates back tomorrow and let you interview them.”

Everything inside me seizes up. Having another wife pregnant and vulnerable terrifies me. I’m equally afraid of telling another woman I love her.

But Nia walking away scares me most of all.

It’s a feeling, so I know it isn’t logical. But that doesn’t make what’s churning in my gut any less real.

“Don’t. I want you with me and I want you to be happy. We’ll negotiate, work something out. But I need more time to come to terms with everything.”

She nods. “You’ll have the next six weeks while we’re dating to figure it out.”

I’ve had six and a half months so far and I’ve untangled nothing. Does she think the next six weeks will somehow magically make everything clear?

Then again, I’ve only given her six weeks to figure out if she wants to spend the rest of her life with me.

Nia reaches for bread and breaks into my thoughts. “I guess it’s weird to be talking about the possibility of love and babies on our first date. On the other hand, you’ve already asked me to marry you and we’ve had sex. We’re doing everything ass-backwards.”

I have to laugh. “That we are.”

The rest of the meal passes in companionable conversation—and a lot of Nia moaning about the chef’s amazing ability to elevate cheesecake to orgasm on a fork. I’m not usually a fan of desserts and sweets, but I agree with her assessment.

When we’re done, I help her from her seat and we head downstairs. As we open the door and find ourselves on the museum floor, Nia takes it all in. It’s odd to see the place devoid of people. The main space almost looks like an office building from an old TV show. Gray metal grids hold up flecked ceiling tiles. Track lighting illuminates the putty-colored walls, along with various exhibits and the walkways between them.

“You two ready?” Aiden asks as he approaches.

I defer to Nia, and she nods. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

He walks us through photos of some of the earliest computers.

“Colossus was the first electric programmable computer. It went into service in December 1943,” Aiden says, then looks at Nia. “Any guesses what it was used for?”

“Given what was going on then, did it have something to do with the war effort?”

“Exactly.” I smile at her. Even if computers aren’t her thing, I like that’s she curious enough to listen and play along. “It was created to help British code breakers read encrypted messages they intercepted from the Germans.”

“Wow. I had no idea. And what about this?” She points to the next exhibit, a photograph of one of my personal favorites.

“ENIAC.”