"Brat," I said affectionately, leaving the steaks on for a few more moments before transferring them to a plate to rest.

Grabbing a potholder, I took out the vegetables, setting the pan on a trivet and turning off the oven. My eyes met his, and another knot of tension in my chest unlocked. He looked, for the moment, content. It wouldn't last– couldn't, with everything that had happened, but it was enough to remind me that eventually, everything would be okay.

"Bring me your plate?"