We were leaving my brother’s place around 9:30 at night. Country road, no streetlights, the usual forty-minute drive home.
I started the truck, and my wife said — real casual — “You want me to drive tonight, hon?” She wasn’t even looking at me. Just buckling her seatbelt like she’d asked about the radio.
I handed her the keys. And here’s what I hadn’t told her — hadn’t really told myself.