The Walk Back

I am a cocktail and four wines in as we step out into the cool autumn night after a hefty dinner. My sweater and the alcohol and her hand will keep me warm on the walk back. “The directions say to turn right here,” she says, as we stand in front of a church that caps the street. I recognize the church from earlier in the day. “Yes, but we can go left,” I redirect. She follows along, her hand still…