Our conversation promptly dies. It’s as if we neither know what to say to each other for a few seconds before she looks away at the food on the bed.

“Maybe we should eat. Sometimes that makes it better.”

“Food always makes it better,” I say with a laugh before turning toward our plates.

As we each took a side of the bed, we pulled the plates into our laps and sat there to eat in silence. Every so often, I’d catch her looking at me, but as soon as I looked up, she’d look away.

It ...