CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
ROSES & THORNS
Mark and I have barely exchanged a single word since I walked back into this house. Not while I cleaned up the disaster he had been living in, not when he disappeared upstairs to pull himself together, and not even now as we sit across from each other at the dining table, eating in a silence so thick it almost feels intentional. He ordered takeout; my favorite, of course, as though that small, thoughtful gesture could somehow bridge the massive crack that has split our marriage wide open.
I scroll through my phone instead of engaging, catching up on missed updates from the hospital group chat, letting the steady stream of messages distract me from the uncomfortable reality sitting right in front of me. I barely pay attention to the food I am eating.
M
