My mouth watered, as I remembered the large slice of leftover pizza in the fridge. Sitting behind the wheel of my SUV, I visualized the thin crust, the gooey cheese, the spicy sausage and curling slices of pepperoni, the onions, olives, green peppers and mushrooms – my “reward” for a too long day at work. I deserved it. I craved it.

Why is this traffic so slow?

I thought about Jack; imagined him opening the fridge, noticing my foil-covered triangle of meat and cheese. I clenched the wheel and willed him to ignore the pizza and eat his salad. What had his doctor said? “Your LDL is dangerously high, Mr. Spratt. You must take care.” I pounded the wheel with my fist.

Will this light never change?

Suddenly alert, I sensed Jack lifting the foil; sniffing the sausage; licking his lips.

Don’t do it! Eat your salad! Remember your cholesterol! Remember your heart!

The microwave beeped. I stepped on the gas; ran the light.

The pizza came out. I swerved and heard a crash behind me.

His mouth opened. I careened into the driveway and slammed on the brakes.

If he’s eaten it, I’ll kill him

But the pizza already had.