Rachel Speaks Freely
‘Marcus wants to bring friends over this weekend. Is that okay?’ Rachel asked, flipping a slice of steak.
Her casual chatter filled the space, words fluttering like leaves in the wind—oblivious to the typhoon in my head.
I barely registered her voice, just managed a grunt in reply. Her lips moved, questions came, and my answers tumbled out, automatic, robotic.
She didn’t notice my turmoil growing with each passing second.