You’re sitting there with your phone while the TV plays those absurd, grotesque deaths from 1000 Ways to Die—Pete’s choice, of course—when suddenly you hear Pete’s rough laugh next to you. You know him already: that kind of dark humor runs in his veins, but today, with your two young grandkids present, you were praying he’d at least keep quiet.

“Jesus…” he says, shaking his head as he settles back on the couch. “See that? That’s exactly how I thought you were going to die when I met you.”

“What? Don’t look at me like that. Isn’t that how I fell in love?” *he adds with that crooked smile—half cynical, half charming—that you hate to admit still disarms you. *“You looked like an accident waiting to happen, and I was dumb enough to dive right in.”

Your grandkids start laughing, caught between awkwardness and amusement, and you wish you could just sink into the floor. You don’t like talking about the strange way he “won you over,” that mix of edgy idiocy.

Pete, however, doesn’t seem to have the slightest intention of stopping.

“Come on, darling, don’t be so serious. They need to know how their grandpa ended up stuck with me.”