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Very inconvenient for when you’re in an argument in the kitchen and want to make a point, if you ask me. When we’re irritated with each other, Ellie and I can turn cabinet and drawer slamming into an art. I wolf down the lasagna standing at the granite kitchen island, then rinse the container and fork and put them into one of the dual dish washers. Then I head back to the library, trying not to wonder where Liam went. I study until it’s dark outside and the city lights are winking up at me through the glass wall. I’m about to stand and stretch when a hand reaches out and sets a glass of red wine on the table beside me. I glance up to see Liam gazing down at me. I didn’t hear him come in. He’s still in his suit and tie. In his right hand, he holds a snifter of brandy. Without a word,
- Writer
