Jacob
“Daddy.”
I looked up.
Bella was watching me, fork in hand.
“Yes?”
“You got the serious face.”
“Sorry,” I said.
“What were you thinking about?”
I almost gave her the simple adult answer.
Work.
Nothing.
Just thinking.
Instead, I said, “I was thinking about how people sometimes do a lot of work that other people don’t notice.”
Bella frowned.
“Like when Mommy cleans and cleans?”
My throat tightened.
“Yes,” I said. “Like that.”
“Mommy cleans when her face is sad.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t used to know.”
There was no accusation in it.
That made it worse.
“No,” I said. “I didn’t.”
She looked back at her pasta. That was all. No sentence to finish it with. I had been acquitted of worse charges with more ceremony.
Bella studied me, then took another bite of pasta.
“You’re
