I don’t like it.
I don’t like the way she won’t meet my eyes for more than a second. I don’t like the way her shoulders are drawn up, like she’s bracing for something.
Okay. That’s something I can deal with. I know what it’s like to be in a bad mood. And she’s allowed a bad day or two. She can’t be my sunshine all the time, and I know that. I love her no matter what.
But maybe I can help.
I keep my voice calm. “Talk to me.”
Her jaw tightens. “I don’t want to,” she says, and there’s a crack in her tone. “Not tonight.”
My chest tightens, instinct screaming at me to push. To fix. To demand the truth.
But I can see she needs space right now. I nod once. “Okay.”
Relief flickers across her face so fast it hurts.
“I just… need some time,” she says quietly. “Alone.”
I swallow.
Every part of me wants to follow her. To ask again.
But I remember what I told her.
Don’t decide what I feel without asking me.
And I realize that goes both ways.
I can’t decide what she needs without listening.
So I nod again. “Okay.”
I stand and start clearing the plates.
She rises slowly and walks toward the hallway.
Halfway there, she pauses and glances back.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
I shake my head. “Don’t be. It’s okay.”
Her throat moves like she’s swallowing something down. Then she disappears upstairs.
Bear follows me into the kitchen as I rinse dishes, tail wagging like he doesn’t understand tension. He drops a slobbery toy at my feet and looks up at me expectantly.
I stare down at it.
Then I crouch and scratch his head.
“Not now,” I mutter.
He whines.
I stand back up, drying my hands slowly, staring at the staircase.
Something’s wrong.
