Oscar took Jaime to dinner on the observation platform of the Space Needle for their four-month anniversary. After they finished eating, she wiggled a photograph out of her wallet.
“Look, it’s me when I was five,” she said. “I’ve never even shown a boy this.”
He peered at the tiny image. “Why not?”
“I’m giving it to you. It’s…it represents the most innocent part of my life. I think the core of me is still like that picture.”
He silently examined it, never looking up to see how different Jaime now looked. He pocketed it and signaled for the bill.