I looked at him.
“I’m not.”
“Good,” he said, and went straight to bed.
I stood there in the dark for a moment.
Then I went into the kitchen, opened my laptop, and pulled up our shared accounts, the mortgage folder, the utilities, everything I would need if this was really the end. Somewhere between the savings account and the homeowners insurance, I remembered Christmas at his parents’ house.
I had smiled and assumed she was being old-fashioned.
Elaine had pulled me aside while everyone else was in the living room arguing over a board game. She touched my arm and said, kindly, “I hope that when you’re ready, you’ll give David the chance to make things official. He loves you very much.”
At the time, I had smiled and assumed she was being old-fashioned. Sitting alone at the kitchen table, I realized she had not been making an assumption. She had been repeating a story.
I called her.
She answered on the fourth ring, her voice thick with sleep.
“I need to ask you something.”
