“Why do you do this? I don’t get it. I’ve asked you not to, but here we are again.”

“It was a tiny joke,” I contend.

“They’re all tiny little jokes. Everything’s a tiny little joke,” he snaps.

“Adam, we were setting the table. It’s not like we were in the middle of a candlelit dinner.”

“Think of how long we’ve been together, and you still treat the L word like it’s a nuclear bomb. It’s three little words, Ary. Three little words that could change everything.”

“You know I love you. You also know that I’m not the type to profess my love every five minutes.”

Adam scoffs. He puts both hands on the kitchen counter and shakes his head.

“It’s not a cashmere scarf, Aryana. If you only take it out on special occasions—”

“It’ll be moth-eaten and I’ll be alone and cold. I understand you’re upset,” I say, trying to figure out how to deescalate this situation.

“Don’t patronize me,” he warns. “Hell, it’s supposed to be the other way around. I’m not supposed to be the nagging girlfriend.”

I throw my hands up in frustration. Does that mean I’m supposed to be the nagging girlfriend? If I profess my love for him right now, he’ll say it was forced. And if I don’t, I’m still being emotionally frigid. He has boxed me into a corner.

“You win, Adam. You’re the emotionally capable one here, and you’ve managed to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that I’m a callous wench. Point taken.”

Just an hour ago, I was thinking it might be time to finally tell Adam the truth about my childhood and maybe even about seeing Shair. Just an hour ago, I loved him.

“This is on you. I’ve invested a lot into this, and I want to know I’m getting something in return. So don’t confuse how we got here.”

“We got here by you deciding to act more like a shareholder than a boyfriend,” I reply.

He is quiet then, as am I. The furnace hisses, the steam summoned by the chill in the room. It’s an argument we’ve had before, but somehow tonight feels different, heavier.

“We will not have this argument again,” he says.

“No, we will not,” I agree from the opposite side of the table, two untouched glasses of wine between us.

Chapter 39

Books are a tiny string connecting me to my parents. To be a reader is to be like them. To be around books and readers has brought me comfort too.