What Do I Want to Eat Right Now?

It’s funny how the smallest questions can stir up the deepest emotions. The other evening, as I sat in the kitchen, staring at the open fridge, the thought hit me. What do I want to eat right now?

I wasn’t particularly hungry. It wasn’t about satisfying an appetite—it was more about something else. Something deeper. Something that had been simmering quietly in the background of my heart for a while. The question wasn’t about food at all.

I turned to my wife, Emma, who was sitting on the couch, flicking through a book she had been reading for weeks. She barely noticed me watching her—her hair pulled back in a messy bun, a quiet smile on her lips as she sipped her tea. She was the epitome of comfort, of home.

"Hey, love," I called softly.

Her head lifted at the sound of my voice, her smile widening as her eyes met mine. There was that warmth again, that spark that I fell in love with all those years ago. The way she could make any moment feel like a chapter in a love story, even if we were just sitting in silence.

"What’s up?" she asked, closing her book, her gaze soft and inviting.

I walked toward her, my steps slow but deliberate. I leaned against the doorframe and smiled at her, my fingers grazing the edge of her mug, a perfect match to the mood.

"What do I want to eat right now?" I repeated the question, my voice light, though my heart wasn’t.

She chuckled, the sound a melody that always made my heart skip a beat. "Is that a serious question?" she teased, raising an eyebrow, a playful grin creeping across her face. "Are we having one of those moments?"

"Maybe," I shrugged, joining her on the couch. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to me. “But it's not about food, Emma. It’s about... you.”

She blinked, a curious expression dancing in her eyes. “Me? Are you sure you're not just hungry?”

I leaned in, brushing my lips against her forehead. The gentle touch seemed to quiet the world around us. "No," I murmured, "I’m craving something more than food. You know, like how people sometimes crave warmth, comfort, or just... to be close to someone. Right now, that’s what I want."

Her eyes softened as she looked at me, the playful teasing replaced by something more tender. She placed her tea cup down on the table and turned her body toward me fully, her hand finding its way to my chest. “You always know how to make even the simplest moments feel like magic,” she whispered.

I smiled, feeling the rush of love wash over me. It wasn’t the first time she’d said something like that, and it never failed to make my heart swell with pride and affection. Emma had this way of making the ordinary extraordinary. When we first met, it was the little things that drew me to her. The way she made everyone feel at ease, how her laugh was contagious, and how she could transform any mundane activity into something special.

But now, as I sat with her in the dimming light of the evening, I realized that the little things were no longer just small moments. They were the foundation of our love. And in this moment, I craved the warmth of that foundation more than anything else.

I cupped her face gently in my hands, my thumbs grazing her soft skin. "I know it’s silly," I confessed. "But I feel like, after all these years, I still want to know every little thing about you. What makes you smile, what makes you sad... and even the smallest things, like what you want to eat right now.”

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with affection. “I think I know what you’re asking," she said softly, her voice barely a whisper. “You’re asking if I still feel the same way about you, after all this time. If the spark is still there.”

I held her gaze, my heart skipping a beat. There was something in her words that hit me harder than I expected. “Is it?” I asked, my voice just above a whisper.

For a long moment, Emma didn’t answer. Instead, she leaned in and kissed me gently. A kiss that was slow, lingering, and spoke volumes without a single word. It was the kind of kiss that told me more than any answer ever could.

When we finally pulled away, she rested her forehead against mine, closing her eyes as she sighed softly. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes, it’s still there. It’s always been there. And I think we’re just getting started."

I felt my chest tighten with emotion. It was as if the world had paused, leaving just the two of us in this perfect bubble of time. And then, just as I thought the moment couldn’t get any more intimate, Emma pulled back, a mischievous smile on her face.

"So," she said, her eyes twinkling, "What do you want to eat right now?"

I blinked, caught off guard by her sudden shift. "Uh... I don’t know,” I stammered, laughing nervously. “I thought we were having a moment."

She raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Well, I think you might be more hungry for something else right now,” she said, her voice low, teasing. “But, if we’re being honest, I’m in the mood for Chinese takeout. You?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Chinese sounds perfect.”

As I reached for my phone to order, Emma rested her head on my shoulder, her hand slipping into mine. The comfort of her touch grounded me, and I realized that it wasn’t about the food at all. It was about the connection. The way we could share even the simplest moments together and still make them feel like something extraordinary.

Just as I placed the order, I glanced at her, my heart full.

“Actually, there’s one more thing I want to eat right now,” I said with a grin.

“Oh really?” she asked, her voice playful again. “What’s that?”

“You,” I whispered, my words filled with affection and desire.

Emma laughed softly, her fingers tracing my hand. “Well, then you’ll have to wait until after dinner.”

I leaned in and kissed her cheek, feeling the warmth of our love settle deep into my bones. In that moment, I knew there was nothing I needed more than this—her, by my side, in every way.

Because sometimes, what you truly crave isn’t food at all. It’s the person who makes everything else worthwhile.