I walked into the dining room and found Emerson already seated with dishes laid out before him. He was waiting, arms resting on the table, looking out toward the windows. I moved towards him and placed my hand on his shoulder, before sitting down on his right.
"You haven’t started eating yet?" I asked, surprised.
"How could I eat without the woman of the house?" he replied playfully, reaching for my hand across the table.
I leaned in, letting our fingers touch, as a smile crossed my face. His playful charm was always there, but now it felt different, there was a warmth that I hadn’t noticed before. Our eyes met, and I looked at him, feeling something settle between us.
We ate silently for a while, exchanging smiles and throwing each other knowing glances across the table. There was no
