Sera had been quieter than usual for nearly a week, something careful and considering in her expression whenever she thought I was not paying attention, and I had learned, over the past year and a half of marriage, exactly what that particular quiet usually meant, something significant she was still working out how to say aloud.I found her sitting at the kitchen table on a quiet Saturday morning, a small paper bag from the pharmacy pushed slightly to one side, her hands wrapped around a mug of tea she had not touched."Good morning," I said carefully, settling into the chair across from her, watching her expression for whatever clue might explain the particular tension I had noticed building all week."Good morning," she said, something nervous entering her voice despite her obvious effort to sound casual. "I need to tell you something, and I confess I've been trying to find the right moment for three days now, which is considerably longer than I usually take to simply say difficult
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