EMMA'S POV
We don't talk about what Dominic said.
For three days, we move around each other carefully. He asks about my doctor's appointments. I tell him the babies are growing normally. We're polite strangers sharing a space.
On Sunday morning, I wake up to find him in the kitchen making breakfast. Badly.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Attempting pancakes. Mrs. Kowalski has the day off and I thought you might be hungry."
The batter is lumpy and the stove is smoking. I take the spatula from him.
"Move. You'll burn the place down."
"I can cook."
"Evidence suggests otherwise."
He steps aside, and I fix the batter, adjust the heat, and make actual edible pancakes. We eat in silence at the kitchen island.
"These are good," he says.
"Basic cooking skills. I learned before culinary sc
