“I’m sorry, there’s just no good way to say this,” Stan blurted out one evening.

He had just come from the secret superhero potluck and realized it was time to tell Sally. Other heroes had brought their families to the dinner tonight. Why didn’t Stan? Well, for starters he had been keeping his identity a secret from Sally for 25 years. How would that look?

“What was that?” Sally looked up at him confusedly. She was just trying to eat her salad and zone out a bit on her iPhone. Really, she just needed a break—it had been a tiring day at work. Secretly, Sally was a little disappointed that Stan was home so early from the potluck.

“I’m … I’m a superhero,” Stan quickly said. He looked expectedly into Sally’s eyes.

With scrunched up eyebrows Sally stared at Stan for a long moment before a bark of a laugh escaped her.

“What in the hell are you talking about?” she asked tiredly. Good hell it was always something.