He returned with toast, cheese, and sliced pear.
I ate because refusal would lead to relentless questioning.
Halfway through, I said, “Did we have rules?”
“About what?”
“Our relationship.”
“Many.”
“Examples.”
“No arguing in the workshop.”
“Reasonable.”
“No going to sleep without saying whether we were still angry.”
“That sounds excessive.”
“It was your rule.”
“Then it was wise.”
“No using sex to avoid difficult conversations.”
I nearly inhaled a piece of pear.
“That was mine?”
“Mine.”
“Did we follow it?”
“Not reliably.”
I laughed.
Pain immediately struck behind my eye.
Reid’s hand lifted, then stopped before reaching me.
“I’m fine.”
“You winced.”
“Laughing hurts.”
“That seems unfair.”
“Everything is unfair.”
The words came out darker than I intended.
Reid sat beside me again.
“Yes.”
