The candlelight flickered between us on the small dining table. I had made Noah’s favorite pasta, the one with the creamy garlic sauce he always said reminded him of our first date. 

It is two weeks before our wedding and the apartment felt quieter than usual. 

Noah kept looking at me across the plates, his fingers tapping the stem of his wine glass. 

I knew that look. 

He had something big on his mind.

“Baby,” he said softly, “I need to tell you something.”

My heart picked up speed. I set my fork down and gave him my full attention. “You can tell me anything.”

He took a slow breath. ...