My husband sent another woman a huge bouquet of white roses and pink peonies with a card signed “Love, Daniel,” and by one careless mistake, those flowers arrived at our house instead.

with “Hey.” I returned his greeting with “Hey.” and let him kiss my cheek. He smelled of office soap and the cedar cologne I’d given him for Christmas. He put his keys down, glanced into the living room, and saw the bouquet. The change was instantaneous: his mouth stilled, shoulders tightened, and his gaze went from the flowers to me and back again. That reaction answered a question I had not yet voiced.

“Wow,” he managed. I leaned against the counter and asked, “Beautiful, aren’t they?” His careful “Yeah.” was