My lover touches my arm, rubs my elbow through the sleeve of my sweater. “I know you don’t want to talk about this,” he says quietly, and he’s right, I don’t. “But last night, after you laid down? I was in the living room with everyone else because I thought you just needed to be alone—”
“You’re so good to me,” I say, patting his knee.
With a quick smile, he continues. “Your aunts were making plans. About tomorrow. Who sits where and what time it starts, and what to do if Jessie shows up. Is she going to?”