Something shifts in her expression, but she doesn't argue.
Good.
That makes this easier.
This is the arrangement. Separate spaces. Clear boundaries. Containment.
That's what we agreed to.
Henry is in the living room when we enter.
He's sprawled on the couch with his tablet, headphones on, completely absorbed in whatever game he's playing.
He doesn't notice us at first.
I clear my throat.
Henry looks up, pulling one earbud out.
His eyes land on Lindsay.
Surprise flickers across his face before recognition settles in.
"Lindsay?" he says, sitting up straighter. "You're here?"
His voice lifts—genuine pleasure breaking through his usual reserve. It catches me off guard.
Lindsay smiles, warm and immediate.
"Hey, Henry."
He grins, wider than I've seen in weeks.
Then his gaze shifts to me, confusion creeping in at the edges.
"Why is Lindsay here?" he asks.
We don't sit.
This will be brief.
There's no obvious way to stage this conversation, so I don't try.
I say it plainly, the way I say most things.
"Lindsay and I got married."
The words sound different out loud.
Henry's smile vanishes—not dramatically, but completely.
Like a switch flipped.
"What?"
His voice is quiet. Flat.
I keep my tone even, factual.
