He walks around Pol and sits down in a chair that scrapes across the floor like nails on a chalkboard. I give her shoulder a little squeeze. “Just give him some time.”
She forces another smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I should come home more often.”
“You can come home whenever you want to. You know that.”
We sit down to dinner. A cheeseburger for Lev and meatloaf with roasted veggies for Polly and myself. Lev picks at his burger, deconstructing it first before he so much as takes a bite. He examines each mouthful carefully before he eats it.
Polly tries to engage him several times but he either acts like he doesn’t hear her or he just mumbles to himself. When she starts getting frustrated, I pull her into a conversation of our own.
She rolls her eyes and sighs melodramatica
