Betrayed by design
Instead he said, “What are you reading?”
She looked up this time.
“Why?” she asked.
“You’ve read it before,” he said. “The spine is worn.”
She glanced down at the book, thumb brushing the edge like she hadn’t noticed that herself.
“Persuasion,” she said. “Jane Austen.”
He nodded. “Yeah, the one where they almost lose each other.”
“You’ve read it?”
“My sister did,” he said. “She used to leave it on the kitchen table, I read the first half by accident over about six months of breakfasts.”
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