And I’d like you to stay and help.”

He stood and followed me to the kitchen.

We chopped vegetables, found a container of rice in the pantry, and argued mildly over whether the pan was hot enough.

We spoke about a television series neither of us had finished.

It felt ordinary, and because it was ordinary, it felt precious.

Later, I told him he could return to our bedroom if we continued seeing a counselor together.

He agreed without treating it as a reward.