His eyes filled.
I waited outside the courthouse expecting joy.
Instead, Jonah looked terrified.
“Come home with me,” I said. “It’s small, and Owen leaves cereal bowls everywhere, but it’s ours tonight.”
“Are you sure?”
“You are my husband.”
***
For a week, we practiced normal. Jonah slept badly. Owen asked careful questions. I bought groceries without counting twice.
“Are you sure?”
On the eighth night, Jonah walked into the kitchen holding a black box.
“What’s that?” I asked.
Jonah set it on the table.
“Now it’s my turn to be honest.”
My hand froze around the dishcloth.
“Unless that box is full of back rent and a working nervous system, I don’t want it.”
He didn’t smile.
“What’s that?”
“Sadie, when you married me, you agreed to something bigger than my name.”
“I married you because Owen needed shoes and rent was due. Don’t make it sound better.”
