Tobias came over that evening with takeout and a small wrapped package.

“What is this?” I asked.

“A late birthday present.

Or maybe thirty-one late birthday presents condensed into one.”

Inside was a framed photograph of the two of us taken at Ruth’s kitchen table the previous month.

I was laughing, my head tipped back.

Tobias sat beside me, also laughing, with the silver cross visible above his shirt collar.

“I liked that one,” he said.