“Did you tell your mother my hair was a sign I was settling down?”
He froze.
I hadn’t expected such a clear answer.
“Jake.”
“She worried about the age difference,” he said. “She thought you were going through a phase. I told her you were finding your feet.”
“Did you tell her I’d stop getting tattoos?”
“Not exactly.”
“What exactly?”
He set the coffee down.
“I said marriage changes people.”
I looked at the mug between us.
He had bought it after my first promotion.
Because it was covered in tiny pink stars.
Back then, he said they reminded him of my hair.
“Did you like me when we met?”
“Of course I did.”
“Or did you like who you thought I’d become?”
He looked genuinely hurt.
That almost made it worse.
“I love you,” he said.
I wanted to believe that answered my question.
It didn’t.
I called Maya.
