“Did you mind?”
Claire glanced toward the counter.
“No.”
The answer came a fraction too late.
The food arrived before I could ask again.
Claire poured syrup over her pancakes.
Then added enough to qualify as an environmental concern.
“You’re going to ruin them.”
“That isn’t possible.”
I cut into mine.
They were excellent.
Claire looked smug.
“Say it.”
“No.”
“You wanted pancakes.”
“I’m eating them to support you.”
“That’s why I love you. Sacrifice.”
The words still did something to me.
Not because they were new.
Because Claire said them easily.
Anywhere.
Even in a diner where the waitress might recognize me and the old couple could hear every word.
I looked toward the counter.
Nobody was watching.
“I love you too.”
Claire smiled.
There.
The private version of the evening.
Better than the award.
Better than the speech.
