Wren was different tonight.
She always had this energy about her, like she was trying to take up less space than she deserved. But tonight? She filled the room. In the softest, quietest way.
Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the hoodie that didn’t belong to her but looked better on her than it ever did on me. She must have borrowed it like she has been doing for the last couple of weeks. Maybe it was the glow from the TV flickering over her face, or the way her laugh came easily tonight, less guarded.
Or maybe it was just her.
We were on our second glass each when the show hit a commercial break and she grew quiet.
Not just quiet still.
I glanced over and saw her staring into her glass, her shoulders drawn in. Something about her expression shifted, like she was fighting off a memo
