For one week, I believed the worst was over.
Then, on the eighth night, Jonah placed a black box on our kitchen table.
“What is that?”
“Now it’s my turn to be honest.”
I tried to smile.
“Jonah, don’t scare me.”
His expression turned serious.
“Yes,” he whispered. “I have to. Because when you married me, you agreed to something far BIGGER than a name on paper.” 
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