“What do you want for dinner?”
“Whatever you…”
I stopped.
He waited.
No suggestions.
No rescue.
I looked at him.
“Chinese.”
Daniel grimaced. “I hate Chinese.”
I raised an eyebrow.
He sighed. “Chinese it is.”
For once, the dishes stayed in the sink.
The pink dress stayed where I could see it.
Daniel complained about the egg rolls while I ate exactly what I’d wanted.
