One question.

This morning, were you thinking about letting him stay a week?”

Rachel’s pen stopped.

“Maybe,” I said.

“Not a week.

Not one night.

If he sleeps there with your permission, the county calls it a tenancy, and you’ll be standing in front of a judge explaining why you changed your mind.”

“Then he doesn’t sleep there.” I rubbed my thumb over the pale band on my ring finger.