He walked her home and never reached for more than she offered. When her kitchen tap leaked, he fixed it with a wrench from his bag. His green flags were too many to ignore—courtesy, competence, and attention. Evelyn told friends he might be the kindest person she’d ever dated.
He noticed her preferences no one else remembered—her special brew of tea, extra pillows, low-volume playlists, pickles on the side because brine overpowered other flavors. He brought her flowers, choosing ones that wouldn’t trigger her sinuses. It felt like love that eluded most women, even those who searched for it desperately.