Page 134 of Say My Name

“Why?”

“I broke one and replaced it.”

“With the wrong plate.”

“It was the same collection.”

“Apparently not.”

She laughs, and the sound hits me with the same quiet force it always does. Her hair is down. Her feet are bare beneath a pair of soft gray pants, and she’s wearing the black sweater she pulled on after dinner, dismissing her blouse as uncomfortable.

This is Sunday night. There is no appointment tomorrow or timing requirement we can use as an excuse. I came because she asked what I was doing for dinner.

Now I’m standing in her kitchen arguing about plates while she smiles at me like this is our life.

A month ago, she told me she knows what this is. She still couldn’t say she wanted it, and I told her okay because anything else would have turned her honesty into something punishable.

I meant it. I can wait for the words; her actions are enough to show she’s trying.

“You’re staring,” she says.

“I’m deciding whether to break the smaller plate so you can replace it properly.”

Her smile widens. “Touch that plate, and you’ll never be invited back.”

“That seems extreme.”

“I have boundaries.”

“I’ve heard.” The teasing note in my voice is a mistake. I see it instantly in the way the light in her eyes dims, the slight stiffening of her shoulders. The humor between us vanishes, and I feel the loss of it like a sudden chill.

Elena looks away first and carries her sparkling water to the table. Her laptop is waiting at the far end, closed during dinner by agreement. She sits and flips it open.

I finish with the dishwasher, bring my glass over, and take the chair beside her. “You’re working?”

“No.”

“There’s a spreadsheet on your screen.”

“That doesn’t automatically make it work.”

“For you, it usually does.”

“It’s personal.”

I lean back, giving her the space to decide whether she wants to show me. A dozen columns stretch across the screen, each broken into smaller sections. Dates. Responsibilities. Contingencies.

Her preferred language.

“What is it?” I ask.

“A preliminary plan for maternity leave.”

Every part of my attention sharpens. “You made a leave plan?”

“I started one. There are too many unknowns to finalize anything, obviously. We don’t know when I’ll get pregnant or what the pregnancy will be like, and childcare availability will depend on timing. This is only a framework.”

I read the headings again. “You’ve included work coverage.”