She found him in the kitchen. Her eyes swept across it. She still hadn't gotten over the fact that he fixed the kitchen and now she saw his box of secrets.
Loretta didn't know how to feel, but here he was sleeves pushed up, fiddling with the toaster like it had personally offended him.
He glanced up when she walked in. “I burned it. You know I'm a great cook, but I guess my mind wasn't there,” he muttered.
She didn’t ask where his mind was. The blackened toast said enough.
She crossed her arms, leaned on the doorway.
Martin didn’t look at her right away. He just stood there, hands gripping the counter like it was holding him up. Then, finally, he exhaled.
She stood by the counter longer than she needed to, fingers brushing crumbs off the edge just to keep busy.
She felt guilty. Sh
