One hand. One familiar recipe. One dinner she hoped would remind them of who they used to be.
Daniel’s favorite meal waited on the table when he walked through the door.
He looked at the food.
Then he looked at Rachel.
And walked past both.
Minutes later, she heard a suitcasela ashbi opening in their bedroom.
Daniel was packing.
“Where are you going?” Rachel asked.
“Out of town. Client work. A week.”
His phone buzzed. He immediately reached for it, silenced the call, and hid the phone away.
“The doctor said I shouldn’t be alone yet,” Rachel said quietly.
“Call your parents. They’ve already been helping.”
That was the moment something inside Rachel changed.
She looked at the man whose life she had saved, the man who once promised to stand beside her, and finally asked the question she had been afraid to say.
“If you can’t even look at my face, why do you keep calling me your wife?”
Daniel did not answer honestly.
