“Luuuuucy, I’m hoooooome!” I shouted out as usual when I came in later that evening.
Mark came from the kitchen. “Did you have a good day despite the news about Fred?”
I sighed. “Not really, I’ll tell you all about it over dinner.”
“Okay.” He hesitated. “It’s almost ready.”
I’d given up trying to convince him that he didn’t have to cook after spending all day in the café; he always brushed aside my worries.
“Daphne had some steak and kidney pie left over, so I just boiled a few potatoes and vegetables to go with it,” Mark said, putting the food on the table.
“Looks great as ever,” I said, tucking in.
Dinner was quiet. We each spoke a little about our day, but I was distracted and Mark knew it.
I’d just put the plates in the sink when Mark asked, “So, what happened to upset you at w
