Everyone laughed. I did, too. I’m good at laughing.
There were other things I was good at ignoring, or at least that’s what I told myself.
I laughed too loudly to cover the ache.
***
Somewhere in the back of my mind, a quiet list was writing itself.
- The way Aaron took quiet phone calls out in the garage, his voice dropping the second I opened the door.
- The locked drawer in his desk that he said held “old tax stuff.”
- The name “Vanessa” that flashed across his phone one night, which he explained away as a coworker.
“You’re not the jealous type, are you, baby?” my long-term boyfriend asked, smiling.
I wasn’t. I made sure of that.
A quiet list was writing itself.
***
Then, last spring, on a random Tuesday, Aaron got down on one knee in our kitchen.
There were no candles or big speeches. Just him, looking up at me with wet eyes.
