The answer to that question came sooner than I thought. I got a text from Hector saying he was coming home to talk. I told him I’d have dinner ready for him.
We sat down to dinner after exchanging stiff pleasantries. I even made one of his favorites—rigatoni with chicken and pesto. He picked at it in silence before setting his fork down with a clatter.
“Did you mean everything you said last night?”
I sighed. “I wish hadn’t said any of it.”
“But did you mean it?”
“I…I mean, yes and no. There are things that bother me that I haven’t talked about because you made it seem like it wasn’t important to you when I brought it up.”
He picked his fork up and swirled it in the pasta. “Like the socks?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s so stupid to me. Socks are socks. I just wear them.”
“But they come in pairs
