She snorts. “Yeah, no. I’m totally stuffed. Peter bought me so much food I had to get it to go. And since someone doesn’t want it, I’ll just stick it in the fridge.”
I make a noncommittal sound, a low hum of agreement, and watch her move. The fridge door swings open. I shouldn’t say it. I know I shouldn’t, but it’s burning a hole on my tongue. “You must’ve had a lot of fun,” I say. Light. Casual. Harmless curiosity.
She hums as she sits, nonchalant. Will shuffles over and climbs onto her lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. She settles him there, her eyes on me as I move around the kitchen. “It was fine.”
My hands tighten around the handle of the saucepan. “Any plans for another date?”
God, why am I even asking. I told myself I wouldn’t go there. This, this, is none of my
