He parks in his spot and turns to face me. It’s when I hear his sharp intake of breath that I realize I’m crying. “W-what’s wrong?” he asks, panic filling his tone. “You just… what?” I ask through a small sob. “You bought these in case I just happened to get into your car and say I’m hungry?” “Yes,” he says without hesitation as if that was precisely what he did. “You said they’re your favorite and that they make you happy.”
