I walked in the door like it was just a normal day, said that I had already eaten dinner, and we sat down to watch the animated version of Black Panther. Going out with a black guy, I was so open-minded and socially-conscious, or so I told myself.
My absent-mindedness was my ultimate undoing.
"Hey, have you seen my phone?" I dug through the couch cushion. (One cushion. It was a ridiculous, circular couch that we felt oh-so-cool for having.)
"No," said Tor, eating some of the freshly oven-popped popcorn we had made. "Did you leave it in your car?"
"I must have," and I started to get up.
"Don't worry, I'll get it," he said. I was grateful that I didn't have to move from the comfort of the couch. I didn't know the unraveling was about to occur.
He came back inside angry, but quietly so, which made me instantly worried.
"Why are there leftovers in your car?" he asked.
Goddamnit. I had forgotten about the leftovers.
"Who were you with?" he demanded.
"No one, I--"