Tell Them This When I Die

The Spice Haters

Adam returns to his table, still amused. Eris, level-headed and damn brilliant, simply has a crush on Adam. It's that simple. It was always that simple. She's only twenty-five—not much older than Sarah, who Adam always considers immature. Eris may not be stupid, but she is just a kid.

Sarah is finishing up her meal, smiling at Daphne. They're talking about Daphne's birthday party, which is supposed to be some big bash. Adam shakes the feeling of Eris' words off and sits down.

Sarah smiles at him. She asks him if he likes his food. He hasn't eaten much of it, since Adam hates spicy food. He's only eating it because Daphne loves the little animals they make with the garnish at this restaurant.

Adam nods to her, slightly distracted. There's no way Eris was telling the truth. Her buyers just don't like that funding has been cut to her, so she's trying to get it back. There was no picture, no threat.

When they finish at the restaurant, Adam drives them home. Daphne falls asleep in the back of the car, exhausted from their day. As the city lights pass by, a song starts playing on the radio, and both Adam and Sarah perk up. It's the same song that was playing the night Adam took Sarah outside the city for a drive-in movie years ago. They'd stayed long after the movie was over, curled in the back of the truck Adam had borrowed from his uncle. In between kisses, Adam had asked to marry her, and she'd said yes.

Sarah looks over at him. She remembers it, too. She remembers the little spark of hope and excitement. The realization that this little affair was more than an affair. She remembers the way the diamond sparkled on her finger. That same diamond rests in her nightstand now, unworn.

Adam turns down their street as the song comes to the bridge. Sarah fidgets with her fingers. At the last second, alive with nerves, she reaches out and places her hand on his, resting on the console.

Adam lets her do it. He doesn't feel that shiver race up his arm anymore, but maybe that's jut because there's so much history. He curls his fingers around hers.

As he pulls into the driveway of the house, Sarah squeezes his hand. "Thanks for inviting me," she says quietly. "I know you wanted time alone with Daphne."

"I had plenty of that," Adam says, putting the car in park. He glances back at Daphne, her mouth hanging open in a snore.

"You want to come in?" Sarah asks tentatively. "I'll make you some tea."

Adam doesn't really drink tea, but he says yes. He takes Daphne out of the back and carries her to the door. Quietly, he tucks her into bed, then shuts off the light to her room and closes the door.

He makes his way to the kitchen, where the kettle is on. Sarah takes two teacups out of the cupboard, smiling at Adam. She has that I-don't-want-trouble-tonight look on her face—the same look she had when Adam would call her for a ride home from the bar.

"I've been thinking," Sarah says, leaning on the counter. "You said you weren't drinking anymore."

Adam holds her gaze.

"Well, it would be nice to have everybody together," she says. "And, you know. It's your house."

Adam feels his heart start to stutter. He'd thought it would take more convincing. He thought he'd have to prove he wasn't drinking.

Sarah looks down at her hands. "Look, Adam, I really want you here. Daphne really wants you here. But I need you to promise me that nothing like that will ever happen again."

That was a freak accident, Sarah, Adam wants to say. That had nothing to do with me drinking.

"Something like that will never happen again," Adam says.