He finds it on a Sunday.
I know because he leaves early, tells me he has a site call, and comes back two hours later with no mud on his boots and a particular expression on his face that he is trying very hard to make neutral and failing completely.
I say nothing.
I am on the couch with coffee and my laptop and I watch him come in and hang up his jacket and pour himself water and do the small domestic motions of a man trying to act like nothing is different and something is very different.
"Good call?" I ask.
"Fine," he says. "Productive."
"Mm," I say, looking back at my screen.
He sits beside me.
I can feel him looking at me.
"What?" I say without looking up.
"Nothing," he replies.
I close the laptop.
I turn to look at him fully and his expression is
