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Ryan Lake, my husband, Ethan Shaw's closest friend, had flown home for a visit. Ethan and I took our daughter to meet him at the airport. While Ethan stepped away to handle the paperwork, Ryan turned to me with a smile. Ryan said, "He really loves you, you know." Warmth bloomed in my chest, unexpected and sweet. Then he reached into the gap beside the passenger seat and pulled out a crumpled pastry bag. "Ethan's a total neat freak. He never lets anyone eat in here." He laughed, shaking his head. "You're the first exception I've ever seen." My smile froze because I knew that bag wasn't mine. Ethan was perfect in every way, except for his compulsive cleanliness. No food in the vehicle. Separate dishes, separate cups. I wasn't even allowed to use his. Ryan's words left me thinking.