FAYE
Dinner was quiet.
Alexander sat across from me, his plate barely touched, though his fork kept moving food around as if to keep his hands busy. I wasn’t much better...I focused on my meal like it was the only thing in the room, as though chewing and swallowing would keep me from speaking the thoughts that pressed at my lips.
Once upon a time, this kind of silence was our norm. Back when I was still adjusting to him, back when conversation was scarce and his walls were high. But not anymore, we had long passed that phase. Now silence meant something. Silence meant distance.
And I knew he could see it.
He adjusted in his chair, studying me. “Are you alright?”
I forced myself to look up, my fork paused halfway to my mouth. “I’m fine.”
Even I could hear the unnecessary sharpness in
