Dieter took a slow sip of his beer. “So you ended it.”
“Weended it, before it became something that required more than we could meet.”
He huffed. “You always did have excellent timing.”
“It was necessary.”
“For who?”
“For both of us.”
Dieter watched me for a moment, then nodded. “Fine. That was Erik. We’ve established you don’t do futures you don’t believe in.”
I didn’t respond because it was an accurate description.
“And now,” he went on, glancing pointedly at my phone, “we have… this.”
I followed his gaze, then looked back at him. “This is not the same.”
Dieter’s eyebrows went sky-high again. “No?”
“No.”
“What’s different?”
I considered it for a moment. “With Erik, I knew. I understood the expectation, and I knew I couldn’t meet it. There was no ambiguity.”
“And now?”
I glanced at the phone again. “I don’t have that clarity.”
Dieter rubbed his bristly chin. “That sounds like a problem.”
“It is.”
He gave me a pointed stare, as if he knew there was more to come.
“This isnotsomething I can dismiss as situational,” I continued. “Or temporary. I’m acutely aware of what it could become.”
“And that’s new.”
“Yes.”
Dieter’s expression shifted. “And you don’t like not knowing.”
“I don’t act without understanding the parameters,” I admitted.
“And he doesn’t fit into those parameters.”
“No.”
Dieter tilted his head again. “So let me get this straight. With Erik, you walked away because you knew it wouldn’t work.”
“Yes.”
“And with this one—” He gestured vaguely, but the meaning was clear. “—you’re not walking away because you don’t know if it might.”
I met his gaze. “Yes.”