“Yes,” I lie. Eating a cold bologna sandwich hasn’t made me forget that there could be a stranger lurking on the second floor of our house.

“Good.” He grabs my hand across the table—mine is freezing but his is surprisingly warm. “Jesus, Tricia. You’re ice cold!”

I don’t know what he expects. It’s well below freezing outside and there’s no heat in this house. We’re both still wearing our coats. “Yes…”

“I’ll tell you what.” He rises from his chair and automatically grabs both our plates off the table to clear it. His mother taught him well—too bad I never got to meet her. “Let me figure out the heat. If we’ve got electricity, I’ll bet we can turn the heat on.”

“That would be great.” I grab the two cups of water from the table and follow him to the kitchen, doing my part as well. “You are the best husband ever.”

Ethan’s face lights up. He drops the plates on the kitchen counter and reaches for me. It’s awkward since we both have our coats on, but I love how hot his breath is when he kisses me. “It’s easy to be the best husband ever when I have the best wife ever.”

Despite his good looks, Ethan was never much of a ladies' man. The day we met at the coffee shop, I was the one who made the first move. He didn’t have many girlfriends before me and doesn’t have many friends. Some of my friends warned me it’s a red flag, but I’m glad he didn’t have a gazillion girlfriends before me or a best buddy to compete with. I always dreamed of being best friends with my husband.

I hope he still feels that way after what I have to tell him this weekend. I have a terrible feeling that the conversation will not go well.

Like everything else in the house, the first-floor bathroom is tucked away and challenging to find. I finally locate it under the spiral staircase—it fills me with the vague concern that if somebody were on the stairs, they could potentially fall through the ceiling of the bathroom. But hopefully, the house is better made than that.

The bathroom is large but quaint. The bathtub has feet as well as a separate handle for hot and cold water. After I relieve myself, I run a wet piece of toilet paper along the vanity mirror over the sink, cleaning off the dust so that I can see my reflection clearly for the first time since we arrived at this house.

Wow. I don’t look so hot.