Just about a week before Christmas, Nicola was sitting on the floor near the tree, wrapping presents. The house was quiet. Little Iris was asleep and Bruce, Alma, and Albert had retired early. While Blake wasn't home yet. Nicola checked the clock above the fireplace and sighed heavily. It was after nine. Lately, he was coming home late, a habit Nicola hated passionately. Why he was working so hard, she did not know.
The only thing she knew for sure was that she was worried about him, about his physical health, but most of all, his mental health. Nicola reached for a roll of wrapping paper just as Blake strolled into the living room.
“Why are you still up?” he asked.
His question, but mostly, the tone he used, bothered her.
‘Because I love you, and I’m worried about you!’ she thought bu
