Absolutely not.”

“Just listen for two minutes,” he said, reaching past the salt shaker to grab my wrist.

“I’m thirty-six,” I said, drawing my arm back until his fingers slid off.

“We have Sophie to raise.

We can barely keep our heads above water with our own lives.”

“That’s exactly why you should think about it,” Adam said, flipping the question back on me before I could draw another breath.

“Do you think I like watching you stress over every grocery receipt and mortgage statement that comes through the front door?”