A Family Matter

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I'm asking."

It was such a stupid answer that I obeyed to find out how far he intended to take this.

There were careful footsteps, a muttered complaint, and the sound of a boot scraping across the ground.

When I looked back, Adrian was beside me, properly shod. He slipped an arm around my waist and brushed my hair aside with his left hand.

His wedding ring gleamed against my temple.

"I'm his husband."

Elliot widened his eyes.

"Sorry. You seem so established. I thought you were closer to his parents' age."

"I'm twenty-five."

"Oh."

Adrian tightened his hold on my waist.

"And you look old enough to stop falling all over married people."

"He was dizzy," I explained.

"Interesting. Always in your direction."

My phone buzzed. Sophie wanted to know where we were. I told her we were leaving and promised to text. Adrian released me only long enough to put his jacket around my shoulders.

I looked down at the jacket I was already wearing.

"Now I have two."

"The wind picked up."

In the parking lot, I returned one. Adrian unlocked the car without looking at me.

I waited until we'd left the bar's street.

"How did you know where I was?"

"I asked Sophie."

"And came to collect the document you left on the terrace?"

He kept his eyes on the road.

"You were taking a long time."

"It's ten thirty."

"Exactly."

I turned toward the window to hide my smile. A few seconds later, Adrian laughed without any amusement.

"A terrace at night. Reminiscing about the past. Very touching."

"He's twenty-one. I remember him at eleven."

"Congratulations on updating his file."

I studied his profile beneath the passing streetlights. His jaw was rigid.

An idea that had previously seemed ridiculous began to look possible.

"Adrian. Are you jealous?"

He laughed too loudly.

"Of a student who can't stay upright? No."

"You threw a boot at him."

"I explained that."

"And made sure he saw your ring."

"I don't want our marriage becoming gossip. We work with people who know us."

My smile faded slowly.

"Right."

He opened his mouth, closed it, and turned the heat up a little.

I watched the street.

There was no reason to be disappointed. Adrian had warned me from the beginning. I just needed to stop forgetting.

Over the next few days, the food got bad.

Not subtly. The chicken tasted like punishment, the vegetables had the texture of regret, and a green sauce made me drink two glasses of water.

"Are you trying to reduce the household population?" I asked.

Adrian swallowed a forkful without blinking.

"New recipe."

"Burn the book."

He also began returning from the gym in shirts that appeared to shrink with every wash. One evening he stood beside me holding a pitcher, his arms impressively tense, while I finished a project.

"Water?"

"Please."

He filled my glass. Stayed.

I looked up.

"Do you want some water?"

"No."

I offered him a bite of the sandwich I'd ordered. He looked at the bread as though it contained a personal threat.

"Are you trying to make me gain weight?"

"I'm trying to share dinner."

Adrian left with the pitcher.

On Thursday, I stopped by his office. Nora looked up as a prolonged wail came through the closed door.

"Construction?" I asked.

"Mr. Hayes says it's a relaxation recording."

Another squeal made us both look at the wall.

"He relaxes to the sound of furniture suffering?"

Nora aligned two pens.

"I didn't think it appropriate to ask."

That evening he came home early with a box from my favorite takeout place.

"I got the spicy shrimp. We could play when you're finished."

Happiness arrived so quickly that I was annoyed with myself.

"You can put it in the kitchen. I'll be done in twenty minutes."

He returned with sliced fruit, set the plate beside me, and lingered.

This time I closed my laptop for a moment.

"Do you want something?"

"No."

I caught his hand and kissed his fingers.

Adrian went red all the way down his neck.

It was so easy to get a reaction from that man in certain circumstances. So hard to understand him outside them.

"Go shower," I said. "I'll be upstairs soon."

He attempted to recover his indifference.

"I wasn't suggesting anything."

"I was."

Adrian left quickly.

I laughed to myself and returned to work. A little later, a message request appeared on my screen.

Elliot.

I accepted because of Sophie.

"I wanted to make sure your husband didn't get angry with you. I didn't realize he was so sensitive about his age."

I frowned.

"Everything's fine."

"You deserve somebody you can talk to. If you ever need to vent, I'm here. You looked after me when nobody else did. I'd like to return the favor."

A faint knock came from upstairs.

I looked toward the staircase. Nobody appeared.

I replied that I was busy, muted the conversation, and shut my laptop.

This time I went upstairs before I'd promised.