She placed her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Don’t go.”

He stopped and looked at her hand.

She waited for him to meet her gaze, but he couldn’t. Not yet.

“If you go now, you know this will end. You’ll never come back.”

He dropped his chin to his chest. He wanted to say the words that would contradict her. But he knew she was right. From here they could both see the end. He wondered if she would cry. He felt he should say something. Anything. But nothing fit like the silence.

He was being stubborn again. She knew this. He needed a reason to stay, a reason to believe in her. He was a force himself, and no command would be effective with him. Nor would she want it to be. He would have to choose. And if he wouldn’t choose her, she didn’t want him to be there for any other reason. She moved her hand from his arm and took the bag from his other hand.

He watched her every move. Any second now. She would demand something of him, something that would be meaningless if he didn’t want to give it. And give it for the right reasons.

She set his bag down by the door. Then she waited for him to look at her.

This was the moment that would decide it. He wished he could tell her mind by her face.

“If you still want to go, your bag is here, waiting for you. I won’t stop you.”

He waited for the rest. There had to be a guilt trip coming soon. He ventured to meet her eyes in the pause. Her cheeks were shiny, but she wasn’t crying anymore.

She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her car keys. “I can’t make you stay. I can only want you. And I do. If we are not here together, I don’t want to be here at all.”

He looked at her, then at her keys. This was different. No woman had ever said that to him before. It made sense. He reached out and took the keys from her. He held them in his hand for a moment, then set them down atop his bag. He met her eyes and gave have a nod. She nodded back.

“If I make us dinner, will you load the dishwasher?” He held out his hand palm up.

She looked at his hand, then found his eyes. “Deal.” She put her hand atop his and felt him squeeze.

A little girl crawled up into her grandfather’s lap for story time. “Once upon a time…” and a little later, “The End.”

“’The End’ means it’s time for cookies.” Grandma came from the kitchen with a plate. As she lowered it for the girl and her grandfather to reach she winked and whispered, “Your turn to load the dishwasher. Maybe you know someone who would like to help you.”

Grandpa smiled. “Maybe. Maybe if she helps me with my chore I will help her with hers.” The little girl nodded her crumb-covered face.

“I’ll leave you two to it then, and we’ll save the rest of the cookies for after supper.” Grandma said. “Someone’s room needs to be tidied.” She called out from the kitchen.

“Does she mean me or you, Grandpa?” The little girl asked.

Grandpa chuckled, “I think she means you.”

“But your room needs to be tidied too. See there’s stuff on the floor by the door that you never put away.” The little girl pointed to a bag and a set of keys against the wall on the left side of the front door.

“Ahh, but those are supposed to be there.”

“Why?”

“To your Grandma and me it means ‘I love you’.”

“Why? What’s in the bag?”

“A promise.”