The man who could not break chocolate.

After dinner, I queue up another episode of Suits, clear the plates and boil the kettle. Time for tea. I usually have lemon and ginger, Avital swings unpredictably between green tea, peppermint, and occasionally lemon and ginger. I have mine with honey, she has hers without. I try not to think this makes her a better person than me.

Now for the perfect companion. Late night chocolate. Just two or three squares each. We’re so grown up. A friend of mine tells me it’s bad to keep good chocolate in the fridge. But that’s where it is, for some reason. Tucked into the top shelf in the door. Out of our direct, day-to-day fridge-opening eyeline.

Unpause. ‘Previously, on Suits…’ As Gabriel Macht efficiently recounts previous critical plot points, I slide my thumb under the cardboard flap to open the fancy dark chocolate. I try to snap a piece in half, but it won’t break. The fridge. The chocolate’s cold. It’s hard. I hurt my hand. I make a face Avital later tells me is a look of sudden pain combined with an expression that says ‘I can’t believe I just hurt my hand breaking a piece of chocolate.’

At that exact moment, Avital has a mouthful of roast pumpkin, leftover from dinner. The sight of her husband struggling to break a thin piece of chocolate, combined with his look of dismay, is too much for her. She snorts with laughter, chokes on her pumpkin and coughs it out. Catching it in her hand. Which is too much for me. And for the next two or three minutes, we giggle uncontrollably. Grown up people, with serious jobs. Giggling like four year olds, as Harvey Specter deposes some guy in a grey suit.

I love my life in that moment so much. With Avital there are so many moments to love. But in that particular moment, as Avital lifts her glasses to wipe away tears, I desperately want to remember that one. Because it’s important to realise when you are happy.