“You broke my office door last night.”  He doesn’t look up at me.  He continues to stare at the World Cup game on television, still leaning his back against the sofa.  I grab the clicker from the coffee table and turn the television off.  

“Aren’t you going to apologize?”            

He shrugs.  “I didn’t mean to break the door.”            

“Well I didn’t mean to marry such a selfish asshole.  But I’m dealing with it, aren’t I?”            

He shrugs again.  He takes off his shirt.  “I swear, you keep the heat on too high in this house.”

“Put on your clothes.  You look stupid.”  I put the clicker back on the coffee table, and he immediately seizes it.  “And fix the damn door.”            

I walk down the hallway and start on the chicken salad for dinner.  I chop up lettuce, carrots, and tomatoes and mix them into a bowl while the chicken defrosts in the microwave.  When I finish the salad I’ll chop up the apples and bake the pie crust for dessert.           

Lance wanders down the hallway into the kitchen, still topless.  “Put your clothes on,” I tell him.

“How long till dinner’s ready?”            

“Thirty minutes.”            

He sighs and sits down at the kitchen table.  “I don’t get why you’re so mad about this.  There are plenty of other options.”            

“No.”  I shake my head.  “I want this.  I don’t want a surrogate in my house or any kind of hospital procedures.  There are so many children in this world who need parents and I—"            

“This isn’t like adopting a puppy, Elaina.”            

I drop my knife.  “I can’t believe you think I’m that simple.  At Jenna’s baby shower you said you wanted kids.  I took that to mean you’d do anything.  That’s how true parents should feel.”            

He picks up the knife and takes over on the chopping.  “You just never know with adoption.”             

“Could you please put your clothes back on?”  He puts his top back on.  “And fix the door?”  He leaves the room and walks downstairs.  I continue making dinner.