“We agreed upon respect.”
“And nothing more?”
He held her gaze steadily.
“You were clear that you did not expect affection.”
“I was.”
“And I honored that.”
“Yes.”
The room felt smaller.
“I did not realize,” she said slowly, “that the absence of expectation would become policy.”
His brow furrowed faintly.
“Policy?”
“You have structured this as though warmth would complicate it.”
“Warmth complicates everything,” he replied evenly.
“And so you remove it.”
“I maintain balance.”
She studied him carefully. There was no cruelty in his posture. No anger. Only control.
“Is that how you see this?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“And you are content with that?”
“I am satisfied that we have upheld our terms.”
The formality of it struck her harder than raised voices would have. Margaret drew a measured breath.
“I asked for nothing more because I believed it would be sufficient.”
“And now?”
She hesitated. He waited.
“And now,” she said quietly, “I am less certain.”
Silence followed. He did not step closer. He did not step away.
“This arrangement protects us both,” he said at last. “From misunderstanding. From disappointment.”
“Does it?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“From whose disappointment?”
