MARTHA’S POV
I sat on the worn couch in the living room, my fingers drumming impatiently against the armrest as I watched Silas move about the house with obvious purpose. He was getting ready to go out…again. Always leaving, always running somewhere else, anywhere but here with me.
The sound of keys jingling, the rustle of his jacket, the way he checked his phone with a slight smile… it all grated on my nerves. He was probably going to see her. Or thinking about her. He was always thinking about her.
"Where are you going?" I asked, my voice cutting through the silence.
Silas paused in the doorway, his hand on the doorframe. He turned to look at me, his expression hard. "Since when are we close enough to be asking each other where we're going?"
The words stung more than they should hav
