I stood in the doorway of the living room, before Annie and the rest of the maids.
The aroma of simmering chicken and herbs wafted through the air, wrapping around me like a comforting embrace. It was a stark contrast to the tension that had lingered between us earlier.
The evening wind had gushed through Annie's auburn hair as she stood beside me pointing to the pots and plates she had laid in my presence. I looked at the table again, and I realized that I admired the dedication she poured into the meal, despite my recent harsh words. I knew I had been unnecessarily mean, and somewhere in me, regret twisted in my gut.
Annie turned to face me, her blue eyes meeting mine, with a mixture of apprehension and determination. She held a ladle in her hand, the rich broth dripping back into the
