Chapter 2

Ethan drove. Along the way, he mentioned that Elena was renovating the terrace recently. I occasionally responded, but more often I just looked out the window.

As soon as the car stopped, he got out of the car and rang the doorbell.

Elena opened the door almost immediately. She wore a cream sweater and her hair was cut short, falling just below her chin.

"Have you cut your hair?" Ethan said.

She laughed, stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "You actually saw it."

"Cleaner than before."

Only then did Ethan turn sideways, as if remembering that I was still standing behind him.

"Grace brought flowers."

Elena took the eucalyptus branch and smiled at me. "Thanks."

She didn't open the bouquet, just placed it next to the mail tray on the entryway table.

Dinner was already served on the long oak dining table.

Elena asked Marcus to sit in the main seat, and Ethan sat on her right side.

I sat at the far end, facing Elena. Chloe sat next to me, finishing her second glass of Pinot Noir.

"Marcus had three surgeries today," Chloe said, leaning back. "He's basically turned into a ghost. Remember that summer? He was on duty at the county hospital and drove to the wrong lake?"

"He ended up driving to Michigan," Ethan said with a smile. He reached out and refilled Elena's wine first, and then poured it for himself.

"Which lake did you want to go to?" I asked Marcus.

Marcus forced a smile, his shoulders slumping slightly.

"Torch Lake. We had an old old Boston Whaler—"

"You have to experience it yourself to find it funny." Chloe interrupted him with a quick smile, "If you weren't seventeen and only slept for three hours in a row, you wouldn't find it funny."

Marcus picked up his fork and looked down at his plate.

Ethan was already leaning toward Elena, chatting with her about her brother's patio project.

Elena stood up and brought over a large plate of chicken tacos sprinkled with fresh chopped cilantro.

She put a big portion on my plate.

"Ethan told me you like Mexican food." Elena said with a smile, "It's my grandmother's recipe. I make it every year the week of his birthday."

The melted cheese is topped with a thick layer of green cilantro.

I looked down at my plate. Ethan knew that cilantro made me allergic. I reminded him of it so many times during the first year of our relationship that he later learned to make salsa without cilantro.

"Thank you, Elena, but I can't eat cilantro." I whispered, "Sorry."

Elena's hand suddenly rose to her collarbone.

"Oh my gosh! I totally forgot. I'm so sorry, Grace."

She immediately turned to Ethan.

"Ethan, why didn't you remind me? You know I'm always careless when preparing meals."

"She's just picky about the cilantro." Ethan shrugged gently and reached for the water glass, "It's okay, honey, just scrape off the cilantro on it."

"It makes me allergic," I said.

I didn't raise my voice, just put the fork gently back on the edge of the plate. The smell of coriander still lingered in the heat, making my throat tight.

Elena's hand stopped in mid-air. She looked at my plate first, and then looked at Ethan, as if waiting for him to make this sentence less serious for me.

Ethan was still holding the water glass, his expression was dazed for a moment.

Conversation at the table fell silent. There was only a slight sound when Marcus' fork touched the porcelain plate; then he took his hand away and looked down at his plate.

Chloe put her glass down and her eyes paused between me and Elena.

"Then... how about scraping it off?" She asked very softly, as if she wanted to find a way for someone to avoid embarrassment.

Elena then leaned down and put a basket of sourdough bread in my hand. Her hand fell lightly on my shoulder, staying a little longer than before.

"Eat the sourdough first," she whispered.

Then, she turned to Ethan, and her tone returned to her familiar and considerate tone: "Also, there are no walnuts on your crust. You hate the texture."

"You remember." Ethan looked up and smiled at her.

Dessert was coffee and berry tart.

Chloe took out the coffee cup from the kitchen with a neat movement, making a crisp sound when the cup collided.

Ten minutes later, I went to the kitchen to pour water.

The sounds in the living room floated through the crack of the half-open door.

"Anyone got a headlamp?" Elena asked.

"I got it," Chloe said. "It's in my trunk."

"I'll take care of the stove," Marcus said.

"I'm responsible for bringing water in the morning." Ethan said.

"She was quiet tonight," Elena said.

"She'll be fine," Ethan said.

I waited for their conversation to change, then took a glass of water from the tap and brought it back to the restaurant.

Ethan was laughing at something Chloe said. When he saw me, he reached out and took my hand, as if nothing had happened.

Twenty minutes later we said goodnight and walked out the door to get the car.

On the way home, Ethan turned the heat on low.

After returning to the apartment, Ethan walked straight into the bathroom and turned on the shower without saying a word.

I sat down at the desk in the study and opened my laptop.

I opened the flight confirmation email again.

Below our seating arrangements, there is a blue link:

Change or cancel flights.

I clicked in.

Then, before the page finished loading, I closed the computer.