“It is.”
“Of?”
I tilt the screen toward her.
She reads.
Slowly.
I watch her face as she does.
Show up on time.
Don’t leave without explaining.
Listen.
Follow through.
Make her feel chosen.
Her throat moves as she swallows.
“You wrote this,” she says.
“Yeah.”
“When?”
“After last night.”
Her eyes flick back up to mine. “You made a checklist?”
“I like being thorough.”
“That’s…” she shakes her head slightly. “That’s not normal.”
“I know.”
Her gaze drops back to the screen.
“Some of these are checked off,” she says quietly.
“Yeah.”
“‘Show up.’” She glances around the apartment. “You did that.”
“I said I would.”
“‘Come back.’”
“I said I would.”
“‘Make her breakfast.’”
“That one’s in progress.”
Her lips press together, and I can see it?—
