Van walked in with a big brown bag.

I assumed it was groceries, or since it was Friday night, possibly a six-pack. Turned out I was wrong on both counts.

“I got you something,” he said. When he smiled, a prickle raced along my scalp. I knew that smile. That was “a smile that told me to be both excited and wary.

“What is it?”

He set the bag on the counter and walked to the fridge. I flipped the steak in the cast-iron skillet, but my eyes stayed glued to the bag.

“Why don’t you look?” he asked, opening a bottle of white wine and pouring out two glasses. I studied the smirk on his face and then returned my eyes to the bag, wondering.

“When I’m done,” I said.

“Aw, let me help.” He nudged me... Read More