The Room They Made Their Own
The first serious argument of their marriage began with a chair. Luna entered their bedroom and stopped. The chair beside the eastern window was gone. Not moved. Gone. She stared at the empty space. “Darius.” No answer. She checked the dressing room. Nothing. Then the balcony. Still nothing. “Darius Blackwood.” His footsteps came down the corridor. He appeared in the doorway carrying a stack of council papers. The moment he saw her face, he stopped. “What happened?” Darius asked. “My chair is missing,” Luna said. Darius glanced toward the window. “Yes.” Luna waited. He waited too. “Where is it?” she asked. “The western sitting room,” Darius replied. “Why?” Luna asked. “You never used it.” “I used it yesterday.” “You left three books on it.” “That counts.” “As s
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