There was only a quiet, impenetrable wall.
“I have a late meeting tonight,” I said, looking at her over my mug. “I might not be home until seven.”
“I will keep your dinner warm in the oven,” she said, smiling politely at Leo.
She did not ask about the meeting.
She did not complain about the late hour.
Normally, she would sigh and ask if I could reschedule, reminding me that Leo missed me.
Today, she simply accepted it, as if my presence or absence made no difference to her.
I took a bite of my pancake, but it tasted bland.
I watched her wipe a drop of syrup from Leo’s chin with a napkin.
Her touch was incredibly gentle with him.
When she looked up and caught me staring, her expression immediately flattened into a neutral, polite mask.
She gave me a small, curt nod, then stood up to put the pan in the sink.
I realized then that she was not going to yell.
She was not going to throw things or demand an apology.
She was simply going to do her job, and nothing more.
