After a while I shift Mina’s weight off me, saying, "I should get some dinner on."

"Mmk," she says sleepily. I smile down at her and then wander into her kitchen, pulling open the pantry doors. I already feel like this house is partly mine. 

Finding half a baguette, I decide to make bruschetta. I slice some tomatoes and lightly fry them, then slice up the baguette and lightly brush each piece with a mixture of olive oil, vinegar and chopped basil. While the slices toast until golden‐brown, I slice up some mozzarella. When I take the bread out of the oven, I arrange the sliced tomatoes and mozzarella on them and sprinkle on salt and pepper. At this point, Mina wanders through to the kitchen. "Oh, yum," she says when she sees the bruschetta, grabbing a piece.

I smack her lightly on her shoulder and push her away, laughing. "Wait for me to at least plate them up," I say. 

"Yeah, yeah," she says. "Hey, how about you melt some chocolate and dip strawberries in it for dessert?"

"How about you melt some chocolate and dip strawberries in it for dessert?" I retort. 

"Yes, chef," she says. 

She ends up burning the chocolate ﴾honestly, I’ve never met someone so incapable in the kitchen in my life﴿ so I have to start it over. I dip a few handfuls of strawberries in the melted chocolate and then leave it to harden in the refrigerator. I then take the platter of bruschetta back to the hearth. Mina sits up expectantly, cross‐legged, when I approach. 

"Thanks," she says, gratefully. 

I shrug. "No problem. I enjoyed it. Although maybe, I should teach you to cook sometime?"

"That," she says, full with bruschetta, "would be a great idea. These are delicious." 

I smile, feeling appreciated. 

Later, I take the strawberries out of the fridge. Mina grabs one and pops it , her lips forming an ‘O’ shape around it. 

"You know what," she says, as she off the chocolate, "I reckon that strawberries are the most ual of all fruit."

I choke on my mouthful, caught by surprise, and then burst out into peals of laughter. "Only you would say that so candidly," I say, shaking my head in amusement. "But you know what? I’d say cherries top strawberries."

"Nah," she says. 

"Yeah," I persist, "they do. With cherries, you can dangle them enticingly above the mouth of your lover by their long stems."

"Hmm," Mina considers. ‘But with cherries, you’ve got to spit out the stones. That’s hardly attractive. But either way, I really can’t believe we’re talking about this.’

That’s what I love about the time I spend with Mina. We talk about the most random of topics. 

I suddenly notice that there’s only one strawberry left. A millisecond later, so does Mina. I dive for it, snatching it from the plate just before she does, her hand brushing mine as she misses it. 

"Ha!" I say, holding it out teasingly. "Who wins again?"

I realize what she’s doing only when it’s too late to stop her. She dips her head and bites the chocolate tip off the strawberry, making some juice dribble down my fingers. 

"I do," she says, with a self‐satisfied smirk. 

I’m frozen for a second, but then I collect myself and whine in an imitation of her voice when she complained about the cold earlier, "No fair!"

She giggles. "I just outsmarted you. Admit it."

"Never!" I say, playing the little girl. She uses my slight distraction to snatch the rest of the strawberry out of my hand and joking on it with a pouty face, her eyes fake wide and innocent. 

Now I laugh out loud. "Oh come on, don’t pull that one. You know exactly what you look like." She breaks into a smile, showing bits of red strawberry in between her teeth. "Hehe. Just playing around."

"Maybe I should try that one on my boyfriend," I joke. 

She immediately tenses up. 

"Just kidding," I say quickly, realizing that she really doesn’t like him. 

"Sorry,'' she mutters. "Me and him just didn’t hit it off when we met. It’s your choice, though, of course. You’ve been with him a lot longer than we have been friends. I shouldn’t pass judgement on him yet."

I hesitate. "Look, to be honest, I’m not sure how much longer we’ll be together. We used . . . we used to not just be in a relationship, we also used to be friends, you know what I mean? Like, laughing, joking, doing the kind of things that friends do together and not afraid to say anything and everything to each other. The best relationships always start off as friendships, I guess."

"Oh yeah," she agrees. "They really do."

"But since then, I feel like we’ve lost the friendship aspect of our relationship. I don’t know. He’s a great boyfriend, most of the time. Really caring. Sometimes he can be a little protective. But really, I can’t complain. He’s a lot better guy than most. Which is why . . . why I feel so guilty for not feeling the same way I used to feel about him." I’m out with it now. Once I’ve started to open up, I don’t stop. 

Mina scoots over to me, saying, "Hey, hey. It’s ok." She wraps her arms around me in a hug. Although she likes to play around a lot, Mina really cares, and knows when to be serious.

I lean against her shoulder, and breath out, "Whew. I’m ok. I’ll get over it."

She just smiles knowingly and pats me on the back.