For the third Tuesday in a row, we had dinner at Michelle’s. Chase ordered the meatloaf every time and I didn’t know how he wasn’t sick of it, but he assured me he wasn’t. Tuesday wasn’t the only day of the week I saw Chase—we spent most nights together, and any part of the weekend he wasn’t working—but it was fast becoming my favorite. It was like an unspoken rule that we would eat at the diner, and I liked that we had a “date night.”
Michelle brought out the coffee without even asking, with creamer for me and sugar for Chase. She paused only long enough to find out if we wanted dessert, and even though I was too full, Chase enthusiastically said “yes” this time.
“She didn’t ask you what you wanted,” I commented, watching the petite beauty saunter away.
Hearing Chase laugh always warme
