You didn't have to say anything to that lady, you know."
"What?" he asked her as he drove home from working at the pizza shack . He held the steering wheel with one hand, while she kept his other hand in her lap, intertwined with hers.
"The lady you overheard said I was too thin. You didn't have to say anything to that customer . I've heard that most of my entire life. I'm used to it."
He squeezed her hand.
"That doesn't mean its okay, Emily."
"I know," she assured him. "I know. It's just…it doesn't bother me. Don't feel like you have to defend me over every little thing because you're my boyfriend."
"Are you upset that I did it?"
She shook her head.
"Then I'm glad I did," he told her. "And I didn't do it because I felt like I had to. I did it because I wanted you. Because people shouldn't say bad things about you, because there's nothing bad to say. You're an elite gymnast, and you're perfectly healthy. And that's all I told that woman."
He looked over at her, and she smiled, the headlights of passing cars illuminating her pale skin in the dark car.
"I love you," she murmured, and he lifted up their intertwined hands to kiss the back of hers.
"I love you, too."