The morning at Xander and Ava’s home was quiet, too quiet.
Xander stood in the kitchen, staring at the coffee dripping into his cup, watching the steam rise and fade. Every movement he made felt mechanical.
The flick of a switch, the scrape of a chair, the sound of Ava’s soft footsteps upstairs. He knew she’d be down in the kitchen with him very soon but he didn’t want to face her just yet.
She came down a few minutes later, her hair tied up, face bare but beautiful in that effortless way he’d always loved.
“Good Morning,” she said carefully.
He looked up, smiled gently, almost convincing. “Morning.”
No accusation. No tension. Just calm. It unsettled her more than a fight ever could.
They ate breakfast in silence. When she reached for her phone, his gaze flicked there for only a m
