“Well, I’m glad we’re here now,” Ryot says, and then silence falls.

It’s deathly quiet as forks clang against plates and glasses of milk are sipped. I can’t imagine what Ryot must be thinking. What must be going through his mind? When visiting his family during winter, it was warm and welcoming. There were no fights, there were no awkward encounters, and his parents never disparaged him. No, they loved on him, hugged him, welcomed me into the family, and made me feel like I was one of them.

This here is war. The same battlefield I grew up on.

Finally, Mom clears her throat, sets her napkin down, and rests both of her wrists against the edge of the table. “You’re an attractive man, Ryot. Clearly successful, with a large bank account.” Oh no, where is this going? Please . . . please don’t break me even more. “So I’m wondering what you’re doing with someone like my daughter, who is average at best, has yet to pick a career path, and from my knowledge, still shares an apartment with her friend because she can’t afford to live alone?” Mom stares at us. “It’s pretty obvious why she’s barking up your tree. I can’t possibly see why you’re interested in her.”

Old wounds are split open.

The past floods my brain, and what minimal confidence I had walking into this house is washed away as self-doubt and hate pulse up my spine.

And this is exactly what I feared about bringing Ryot here. This disdain my mother has for me. This hatred. It’s coming through in such an evil, awful . . . humiliating way that I can barely look at him as I shrink into my chair.

What Ryot must be thinking of me right now.

“Verna,” Dad chimes in. “Why don’t we change the subject? Tell Myla about the knitting club you joined.”

“I’d rather not. She won’t be interested in it. She doesn’t quite understand what it means to have a hobby, other than the hobby of following her friend around, looking for attention.”

“She’s the most unique person I’ve ever met,” Ryot says, drawing attention back to himself. He sets his fork down and looks my mom in the eyes. “That’s what first attracted me to her. Then it was her eyes, the color of the sky on the sunniest of days. After that, it was her voice, which has an edge to it, an edge that says she’s been through a lot in her life, but she’s persevered.”

“Ryot,” I say, tugging on his hand. “You don’t have to—”

“Then it was her body, which I’m not ashamed to say, because she’s sexy. The curves you describe as ‘packing on weight’ are my favorite parts of her body. She’s a real woman, a woman I love touching, feeling, and worshipping. Easily, without a doubt, the sexiest woman I’ve ever been with. So sexy, Verna, that I can barely keep my hands off her.” Oh God. I gulp. “She’s everything I would want in a woman, and it took me so goddamn long to find her. And when I got to know her better, I realized just how funny she is. Smart. Kind. She would do anything for anyone if she knows what she does is appreciated. I’m jealous of her courage and her strength and wish I possessed even half of it.” He rises from the table, and I look at him, shocked as he grabs my hand and pulls me up from my chair as well.