The kitchen did look bright then it had looked yesterday. The sunrise was washing over the white cabinets and the wooden table at the center of the room. I sat in the same chair that I had yesterday. Dave merely walked around and pulled out two mugs from the cabinet. He got to work waking up the coffee pot and made a quick pot of coffee. He poured the fresh brew in the mugs.
“How do you like yours?”
“Black is fine.” I wasn’t much of a coffee person in the first place. I was, however, going to take any act of kindness from him as I was going to get.
When he sat the cup in front of me and sat in the chair next to me, I froze up again. He was an arm length away. It was the first time that we’d been so close and hadn’t been fighting. He wasn’t angry with me—at least not as much as he usuall
