Living With Vicky [hot] -

“Where are we going?”

Tonight, she’s making pasta. I can hear her singing in the kitchen—still badly—and the rain has finally stopped. I’m sitting at the table, watching her dance around the stove with a wooden spoon in her hand, and I think: This is it. This is what it feels like to be alive with someone who loves you. living with vicky

“You don’t seem scared.”

“You look like garbage,” she announced, pushing past me with a suitcase in one hand and a paper bag in the other. “I brought dumplings.” “Where are we going

Vicky nodded. “Yeah. Me too.”