Good Place

"Why don't you date her?" my mother asked.

"She has a boyfriend," I said.

"So? She's not married."

"That's not really how it works now."

"Well," she protested, "all I know is that I was married when your father told me how he felt. And if he hadn't I don't know where any of us would be." I looked around. I was in a pretty good place. And really, there's too little honesty in this world.