Her smile at the gentle brush of his thumb was genuine and the butterflies in her stomach were growing larger the more time he stood before her explaining himself. She heard something about questions and his ex-wife and waiting and then brought her face away from his hand and her mind back to the present.
She nodded, truly understanding, "You're not under any obligation to explain anything," she said, honestly, "we can have a glass of wine anytime, right?" The look on her face - she'd be ashamed to admit - was pure hopefulness.