Page 107 of Devilish Ink

Iheard the door to the apartment open as I went to the bathroom to grab a hair tie before cooking dinner.

“Hey, baby,” I called to him. “How does pasta sound?”

As I rifled through the drawer, I heard Liam drop off his bag of tools at the door. I imagined him slipping out of his steel-toed boots and rubbing his grease-stained hands together: hungry for dinner, hungry for me.

It was nice, I thought, the little domestic life we’d already begun to make for ourselves. Liam had moved in here with me the day after we found out I was pregnant.

“Baby,” I said, returning to the kitchen, “I asked if—”

I found Liam at the counter cutting the onion I’d just laid out on the cutting board. He was awkward with the knife, clearly not an expert at home cooking. And he was crying.

“Liam, honey,” I laughed, coming over to touch his back. “Let me do it.”

“No.I’lldo it.”

I bit my lip. “You’re honestly kind of making a mess of it. What did that poor onion do to you?”

He sniffled. “It’s not a mess…it’s rustic.”

He hadn’t even taken the time to take off his shearling coat when he came inside. Had herunto the onion?

“Okay, now,” I said, reaching gently for the knife. “You’ve had your fun.”

Liam turned to look at me and the tears in his eyes were so fucking adorable. With his wind-tousled hair and dirty cheeks from the garage, he looked like a little kid.

“Please, let me do it for you,” he said, melting my goddamn heart. “I have to.”

It was either the onions or the pregnancy hormones that were making me tear up as well.

“You mean you want to,” I said.

But Liam, tears streaming down his cheeks, shook his head.

I slipped my hand under his coat and plaid flannel to rub circles at the small of his back. I could feel the muscles, strained and tight.

“You’ve been working all day,” I said softly.

“Ichop your onions.”

I laughed at his seriousness. “You meanthisonion.”

“No. I mean I chopallyour onions from now on forever.”

I frowned. Was this some kind of misogynistic shi—

He reached out his hand to push back a strand from my face and smiled. “I don’t want anything to make you cry.”

I softened instantly. Melted right into a puddle, actually.

He could chop all my onions.

I turned on some music.

As Liam saute the onions, I boiled the water for the pasta. I retrieved the jar of sauce from the cabinet, I closed the door to find Liam suddenly there. I looked between his stern face and his hand held out to me, palm open.

“Give it.”

Laughing, I said, “I can open it.”

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