The day after the repair talk passed without a crisis.
That alone felt strange. Alex worked in his room through the morning. Troy took calls in the study. They crossed paths in the kitchen around noon, exchanged a few ordinary sentences about food and schedules, and didn’t turn any of it into a test. The absence of a fight didn’t make the house soft. It made the air careful, like both of them were waiting to see whether ordinary time was something they could survive.
Evening came in slowly. Bridget texted that she was staying across town with a friend. Silas was at a late dinner. The house emptied around them without ceremony. Alex found Troy in the living room with the lamp on and his laptop closed, staring at nothing in particular.
“You’re still up,” Alex said.
“So are you.”
Alex le
