The house was quiet again.
After the last toast was made and the final slice of cake was shared, after hugs and laughter and soft goodbyes, the day gently folded into evening. Edward had fallen asleep not long after dinner, a smile still ghosting his face. Liz and her parents had left with promises to return soon, the nurse helping settle Edward in with practised care and kindness. Even Linda had finally agreed to go home, after making me swear three times that we had everything under control.
And then it was just us.
I stood barefoot in the kitchen, the hem of my dress brushing against the tile, a cup of tea cooling between my hands. Mark was still in his dress shirt, sleeves rolled, top buttons undone, his tie draped somewhere over a chair. He looked… content. Still.
Like something inside him had finally stopped bracing.
He poured a little wine into his glass and leaned back against the counter, watching me with the kind of attention that didn't demand anything, just was.
