Grace entered the kitchen where Max was waiting. His demeanor was deliberately neutral, as if he had been practicing this moment ever since she left. She could see he had set the table with their nice plates, the ones they typically saved for rare occasions, and the flat smelt of herbs and garlic.
He remained standing at the stove and inquired, "How did it go?"
Grace placed the mail and her purse on the counter, giving herself a moment to think of a way to describe a discussion that had completely changed the way she saw the world. "It was complicated."
"Good complicated or bad complicated?"
"Both. Not at all.
Max turned off the hob and faced her directly. "Do you wish to talk about it now or after dinner?"
"Now, I think." Before, I lost my nerve.
They sat at their modest dining ta
