Mirabella's Pov
Spoons and plates clink, my children’s little voices pass through my ears like soft whispers as they throw their tantrums, my husband chews his food loudly—an effort to infuriate me.
Even with the unspoken words and unexpressed anger looming over my husband and I, we find ourselves sitting at the dinner table, trying to force smiles on our faces for the sake of our children.
Not like they care, considering that they’re munching on their dinner and chattering away as though we do not exist. Still, we hope to create a good example for them.
As the meal goes on, the silence between my husband and I becomes more and more uncomfortable. It’s my daughter, Mariana who looks up from her plate first, her eyes meeting mine. Furrowing her brows, she looks between her father and I
