“Give me your hand.”

Two or three minutes later, Sean came back into the kitchen with a tube of ointment and reached out to shut off the faucet.

“My finger doesn’t hurt anymore.”

The burn was a red mark about half an inch long. In my experience, even without ointment, it wouldn’t scar.

“Dry your hand.”

Sean acted like he hadn’t heard me. He handed me a dark navy plaid handkerchief.

With him being ...