I’m grateful to be given tasks, nodding as I head to retrieve the garlic. I turn to give it to him but he’s right there, putting his arm around me and reeling me in, and I smile as he kisses my forehead. I put my hands on his waist, garlic clutched between two fingers, and then lift my head to give him a soft kiss on the mouth.

“I’m glad,” I tell him, resisting the urge to argue. I don’t feel like a very good husband right now, but I want to be.

“What next?” I ask as I pull away, setting the garlic down and rubbing my hands together. “I can set the table.”

We haven’t eaten a proper meal at the table since everything happened. It would be hard to tell that anything happened at all, if not for the brand new rug covering the floor. I want to take our home back.