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“There are several recognizable ingredients.”

She dropped her fork. “You hate it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t have to pretend it’s good.”

“I’m not pretending.”

Claire stared at him.

Noah swallowed carefully. “I’m choosing gratitude.”

“That is not the same thing.”

“It’s close.”

“I wanted to do something for you,” Claire said. She looked down. “I wanted one day where you didn’t have to do anything. You always remember everything. You bring me coffee. You feed me when I forget. You fix things before I even realize they’re broken.”

Noah’s expression softened.

“I wanted to do that for you.”

“You did.”

She glanced at the ruined dinner.

He continued, “You bring me coffee too. You cook for me too, even if it only succeeds about half the time. You do things for me all the time.”

“Like what?”

“You keep Biscuit’s favorite treats in your apartment. You replaced the batteries in my flashlight because you noticed they were dying.”

“That was practical.”

“You leave books on my nightstand because you think I’ll like them. You make sure I don’t skip lunch when work gets busy. You text me before every meeting you know I’m nervous about.”

“You do that for me.”

“Exactly.” Noah reached across the table and took her hand. “You already take care of me.”

Claire looked down at their joined hands. “You make it look easy.”

“It is easy.”

Her eyes lifted to his.

“Because it’s you.”

“You don’t have to make it perfect,” he said. “You just have to want to.”

Claire swallowed. “I did.”

“I know.” Noah’s expression softened. “Claire, I don’t need you to prove that you care about me.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”