Hers: The Beginning

Honestly, I just need a book recommendation.

Just having wrapped up reading a fantastic novel, headed on a solo trip to Boston for a couple days, I planned to ask for something good he’d read recently.

He’s going to cook for me. He always cooks for me. We sip glasses of white, smiling at each other across his unfinished raw wood desk project that serves most often as a dinner table when I come over, and discuss what food to make. A grocery store run seems imperative; he’s out of anything edible and just returned home from his 2-week trip to Northern California an hour or so ago. A normal night, nothing out of the ordinary.

Suddenly, he leans forward, gold-green eyes shining with intensity. “I read this book on my trip,” he begins, unprompted. I’m all ears. A pause.

“I want to see the world. And I want you to do it with me.” He’s serious, and it’s not a question.

“I’m in,” I reply. “Let’s do it.”

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