HAZEL
Axel doesn’t come to me. He doesn’t respond.... He just keeps eating. Fork lifting. Chewing. Swallowing. Calm. Controlled. Like nothing I said mattered. Like I wasn’t even in the room.
When he’s done, he gathers his plate, the bag, the wrappers, and walks to the trash. He surprises me again when he washes his plate. Slowly. Thoroughly. He dries it. Sets it back in place exactly where it belongs.
Who is this man?
And what the hell is going on?
I don’t say anything. I just sit there, watching him, my appetite suddenly gone, my thoughts a scrambled mess. Then he leaves the kitchen. That’s it.
Is that all? I wonder.
I stare at the food in front of me. I’ve only taken a few bites. I was hungry, but seeing Axel here, acting like this, knocks the air out of me. I don’t know how to ac
