Too quiet.
My husband’s face changed.
The confident smile he had worn earlier disappeared.
My father-in-law lowered his eyes and slowly placed the kitten on the bed.
“It’s not what you think,” he said.
That sentence.
Those exact words.
They were the words people said when things were exactly what they looked like.
I stepped away from the bed and wrapped the blanket around myself.
“My wedding night,” I said slowly, “my husband brings his father into our room, tells me I have to accept some strange tradition, and now there’s a kitten crawling on my back at three in the morning.”
I looked at my husband.
“Do you honestly expect me not to think something is wrong?”
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
For the first time since I met him, he looked like a child caught hiding something.
Finally, my father-in-law sighed.
“I owe you the truth.”
I didn’t answer.
I just stood there.
Waiting.
