Startled, I looked up and met his eyes. He must have seen the tears forming in my eyes, because his voice was soft and full of emotion. ‘Sarah, how ...o you feel about me?’ I wasn’t expecting that question. I was expecting him to ask why I was breaking up with him, or what I wanted from him, or even just to vent the anger he should have been feeling… anything other than this quiet, pained inquiry. ‘I… I… don’t know, Steven.’ I stuttered. I was lying through my teeth, and I was sure he would be. I’ve ranted about how unfair it was that I was born a black man in a white world. I’ve bitched about being poor. I’ve blamed everyone and everything around me for my misery. I had dreams when I was a kid of being a rich man. I’m not a rich man.“I’m fifty years old and a short order cook who works the graveyard shift in a chain restaurant. But you want to know something? The only place that I’m happy is in that kitchen. When I’m in there, I’m the master. The rest of my life is a disaster, but. More

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