“Yes, I remember the place. Ugly strip mall, but sure, we’ll stop. Not worried about gluten anymore, I take it?” I say. For a while, Mia and her doctor du jour thought her upset stomach, weight loss and other intestinal issues were caused by gluten. I was relieved when she decided not to hop on that fad after giving up wheat for a few weeks with no change. She still insists on a vegetarian existence, leaving her with few choices when we go out to dinner and endless questions for the waitstaff. It’s annoying. But I push those thoughts away. My wife is just doing her best.

“Turns out gluten isn’t the culprit,” Mia says. She smiles. “So yes, I’d love to stop. If it’s okay with you, of course.”

Stopping on our way to the lake house at a bakery that will no doubt be out of croissants was not on my agenda today. She knows I’m a man of action and when I have a plan, I follow it. I just want to get up there already. But today, Mia’s every wish is my command.

“As you wish, my dear.” I am the perfect husband. I smile as one of the songs from our early dating days comes on. There’s an art to crafting the perfect playlist. This song, “Unforgettable,” was the soundtrack to our first night together. Innocent Mia, a virgin even after four years of college, somehow untouched by all of those lecherous fraternity guys. She was waiting for someone older, someone sophisticated, someone who could take care of her. She found that in me.

I had reserved a suite in the finest hotel in downtown Columbus, with views of the river sparkling below. We’d been dating a couple of months by then and I’d waited as long as any man could be expected to. Mia was nervous, uncomfortably sitting on the edge of the red-and-white-striped upholstered chair, gripping her champagne flute like a weapon she’d use for protection. She wore a light blue dress that matched her eyes. The dress slipped easily over her head once I’d pulled her to me, asked her to dance. The memories of that night are vivid. It took me until the sun was coming up to convince her to go all the way. She worried about the promise she’d made to her mother. I told her if a tree falls in the forest but no one is around to hear it, then did it really fall? She laughed and I slid on top of her, pinning her arms gently above her head, pressing my mouth firmly against hers. And, she fell. I lick my lips at the memory and shift in my seat.

“Who were you talking to on the phone? The office?” she asks as I back out of our driveway.