“Is everything okay?” he asked. And then he wanted to slap himself. What a stupid fucking question. Everything was obviously not okay. He tucked the covers tighter around them and pulled her close. “I’m okay,” she said. “I’m sorry. I should . . . explain.” He kissed her hair. “Shhh,” he said. “You don’t have to explain anything.” Wait. He released his hold on her. “But . . . if you want to be alone, I can go get a snack, or find another room, or something. Just say the word and I’m gone. I promise, it’s fine.”
