Stupid.

I forgot to pick up his dry cleaning. It took 45 minutes to x-ray my arm and tell me it was just a bad sprain. The sling made it hard to drive so I only wore it for one day. The black eye faded by Saturday. On Sunday, I answered the phone when he called instead of letting it go to voicemail again.

“Hey,” he said nonchalantly. “What are we doing for dinner tonight?”

I cooked chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy and green beans. His favorites. He brought roses. I prefer daisies, but it was a nice gesture. He spent the night.

He took me to the movies on Friday night. We saw a horror movie. I hate horror movies, but he let me get extra butter on the popcorn so it was ok. On the way home, he told me he didn’t like the way I smiled at the kid at the popcorn counter. I froze, waiting, but then he smiled. “Don’t do it again,” he joked. I breathed and squeezed his hand, not too hard.