“No one ever wanted me,” he answered.

“I don’t believe that,” I said, and laughed.

Few are lucky enough to know Koji’s dry sense of humor.

“Truth is,” he says, “the only person I’ve ever wanted to marry was already married.” Then he turned back and reached high, toward another branch.

* * *

Standing at the sink, I can feel him watching me, even with my back to him.

“Want more coffee?” I ask, plucking the last of the chicken feathers.

Koji is tapping his fingers against the kitchen table. After a long pause he says, “No, I’m fine, yeah.”

But he doesn’t sound fine. There’s something bothering him, I can feel it. He’s quieter than usual, preoccupied. I rinse the stripped chicken with water, then lay it on the chopping board.

“Marry me,” he says, serious and sudden. The abruptness of his words at first startle, then hover heavily in the air. Marry me.

I turn from the sink to face him, putting down the cleaver I’m holding. I wipe my hands on my apron and smile tenderly at him, but I don’t mince words.

“I’m still married,” I say. It’s nothing but the truth, but I immediately realize how it must sound to him. “I just can’t go through the process of divorcing Franklin, dredging it all up. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve already divorced him in my heart and mind.

“Just know, there’s no need, yeah, we’re just as good as,” I add.

“But we’re not,” he answers, his fingers tapping faster against the table.

“I like what we have here and now,” I say softly. But when I look at him, I see the hurt in his eyes. I don’t know how to tell Koji that I can’t bear the weight of marriage anymore. I married not long after graduating from high school, a girl who couldn’t see the sky through the sunlight that was Franklin. Blinding, yeah. I’ve never lied to Koji. I like the lightness of what we have. I’ve always told him I was happy with the way things were.

I step closer to the table. “I’m more married to you than I ever was with Franklin, yeah,” I say to him, reaching for his hand and watching him smile. “Please understand.”

Koji stays quiet for a while. “I do . . .” he finally says, “understand. Too soon now, yeah, but later . . .” He looks away so I can’t see the disappointment in his eyes.