He set the controller down. The quiet that followed was different. It was attentive. “What do you mean?”

“Tell me one thing,” he said. “One thing you’re scared of. Not about the wedding. About after.”

It wasn’t a poem. It wasn’t a sonnet. But to Lena, it was the most romantic thing he’d ever said. Because it was true.

“Robbery,” he said, not looking up. “Just use the chairs. They have legs for a reason.”

He paused the game. “The beginning of what? The level? No, this dragon is a jerk.”

“Sam,” she said, closing the laptop. “Do you ever miss the beginning?”

“Two hundred dollars for chair covers ?” she muttered, her finger tracing the screen of her laptop. Sam, sprawled on the other end of the couch with a video game controller, grunted in agreement.

She blinked. It was such a simple, terrifying question.