Her hair was different, parted on the side instead of down the middle.
It was the first thing he noticed as he carried their tray of food over to the couch where she was waiting.
He kept his eyes on her as she ran a hand through her wavy hair and slid the front piece behind her ear, a small smile of greeting on her plump lips.
Carefully, he placed the tray on the couch and took a seat, handing her a bowl of steaming vegetable soup.
“I thought I would get meat today. Maybe steak,” she pouted, eyes darting to his face and then looking away.
“I’m not sure you can digest red meat right now,” he answered, handing her a spoon. “I’m not a doctor or nutritionist, but I do know red meat is hard to process for a healthy person sometimes, so I don’t want to push you too soon.”
Phatima didn’t h
