She and Ethan always worked things out, and her mother’s question was one Quinn didn’t want to explore but also one she’d never forgotten. Pushing her own doubts aside and biting her tongue on a regular basis had thus far been the key to their longevity. She didn’t know a lot of couples who had made it as long, and, for their endurance, Quinn was proud. Ten years was no small feat and, as their friends teased them, was probably the longest engagement of anyone in their small or wide circle.

Quinn looked down at her ring, a symbol of their promise to be together forever, but one that had yet to be formalized. The ring no longer sparkled. The newness had worn off, and now it just felt like a familiar piece of her. Would it be different once they were married?

A rumble in her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten a real meal in nearly a day. She turned and went to the bed, sitting cross-legged on it before picking up the leather-bound hotel guide. She flipped to the “Room Service” section, then called in an order of garlic rice with a side of French fries and a cold (fully and guiltily caffeine- and sugar-loaded) Coke with ice.

Screw the protein, greens, or fruit she’d normally be ordering.

Sometimes having such a healthy partner was tough. Along with Ethan’s good looks, he was exceptionally fit. He found time for his workout regimen no matter where he was. He’d worked hard to develop a six-pack that he could wash clothes on and biceps that made an admirable bulge under his perfectly ironed, tailored shirtsleeves. Secretly, Quinn thought he was terrified of middle age and what could happen to his body if he relaxed even for a minute.

She appreciated his commitment, but his diligence could also be irritating when it came to his watching what she put in her body.

They didn’t fight about it, but she knew he wanted her to be slimmer than she was. It was in the way he raised his eyebrows if she ordered anything but the healthiest dish on a menu, or the way he’d once held up a pair of her slouchiest pants she’d left at the end of the bed and said he’d almost mistaken them for his own.

He knew they weren’t his. He’d just wanted to make a point. Get her to work harder to lose the extra weight she’d put on that year. The pounds, that no matter how hard she worked out or how little she ate, refused to budge.

Or was she just being paranoid—too sensitive, even?