25
I stepped inside and was hit with the mouth-watering aromas of sizzling garlic and wine.
Ro stood at the stove, his jaw all stubbled and his damp hair tousled, dropping fat white prawns into a pan while Ella Fitzgerald sang about being bewitched, bothered, and bewildered on the stereo. A cut-up crusty baguette was arrayed on a wooden cutting board on the table next to a big colorful salad. “Wine’s chilling in the fridge.”
My breath caught at the cozy picture of domesticity. This. The world was exploding around us but tonight we could have this bubble.
We could have us. And then I’d tell him I loved him.
I hugged him from behind. “You’re the best.”
“I am. But that’s old news.”
“Are we going to talk about earlier?”
He shook his head. “I respect your decision. Hell, I understand yo
