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Tonight I’m standing outside Astrid’s apartment in a dark suit with flowers in one hand, twenty-seven hours into a marriage that somehow happened before our first actual date.

She opens the door with an earring in one hand, and I forget the sentence I had ready.

The dress is dark blue and fitted through the waist, and her hair is lifted off one shoulder while she works the earring through. One heel is on. The other is beside the door.

“Come inside. You are letting the heat out.”

“I was having a moment.”

“With the hallway?”

“With my wife answering the door like that.”

The word makes her look at me. Long enough that I notice.

“I’m still getting used to it,” I say.

“So am I.”

She turns back to the mirror and gets the earring in. I close the door.

“Tova?”

“With Gabi until morning.”

“Voluntarily?”

“She packed before I had finished asking.”

“That’s reassuring.”

Astrid takes the flowers and looks down at them. “These are unnecessary.”

“They’re flowers.”

“I can identify them.”

“Good. I was worried all that medical training had gotten too specialized.”

She carries them into the kitchen, and I follow her to find a vase. The apartment is exactly the way it was before the courthouse. Tova’s school papers on one end of the table, the laptop shut beside them, the piano against the far wall under its cover. The only evidence that I became somebody’s husband yesterday is the band on my hand.

She puts the flowers in water and turns around. “You are wearing a tie.”

“I own several.”

“I have only ever seen you in one.”

“You’ve mostly seen me injured or at work.”

“I have seen you without a shirt.”

“Strong point. Still not formal.”

She reaches up and straightens the knot, which doesn’t need straightening. Her fingers brush the front of my collar and I put a hand lightly at her waist.

“Can I kiss you before dinner?”

“You are asking now?”