“It is a respectable job, Anna,” I said quickly, realizing my tone might have been too blunt.
“But it is not exactly a corporate portfolio, is it?” I added, trying to soften it with a small chuckle.
She did not chuckle back.
She turned her back to me and gripped the handle of the boiling pot.
She poured the hot water and pasta into the colander in the sink.
A thick cloud of white steam rose up, obscuring her face for a moment.
I smelled the hot metal of the colander.
“Dinner is ready,” she said.
Her voice was perfectly calm, but it lacked the warm tone I had heard just minutes ago.
She did not look at me as she set the bowl of pasta on the table.
She walked to the hallway to call Leo for dinner.
I sat at the island, suddenly feeling the cold drafts from the window behind me.
The silver invitation lay on the granite between us, catching the harsh overhead light.
I reached out and pushed it aside, expecting her to argue with me when she returned.
