“She’s lovely.”
I nod once.
But my chest still feels oddly tight.
I get up and walk back round to my side of the breakfast bar, more because I need movement than because I need coffee.
Philip watches me.
I can feel it.
“You alright?” he asks.
Casual question.
Not casual answer.
I stare out through the glass doors towards the pale line of sea beyond the garden.
Then say, before I can edit myself into something less honest, “Sounds different when you say it out loud.”
There’s a pause behind me.
Not long but long enough.
“Wednesday?” Philip asks quietly.
I nod.
Silence stretches for a second.
When he speaks again, his voice is softer.
“Yeah.”
Just that.
Yeah.
No joke.
Because he knows exactly what I mean.
And the fact that he knows makes the kitchen feel smaller somehow.
Like the walls have moved in around the one thing we have both been politely not touching.
The end of this.
Or what is supposed to be the end of this.
Chapter 12
Philip
The kitchen feels differentafter the call.
Quieter.
