My daughter Emi came home with her fiancé. I greeted him with “Lovely to meet you,” and he answered “It's been a while” — it was Shinichi, the boy who confessed to me decades ago. I connected the memory to the grown man in front of me and let myself get nostalgic about it. And then that night, he confessed a second time: “I still have feelings for you.” I knew it was wrong, and I let him kiss me anyway, on the promise that it would be the only time.