Unspoken anticipation
The dinner table felt charged with anticipation. Olivia poked at her green beans, a million miles away from her roast.
She glanced up occasionally, eyes darting between my wife and me. “Why’s everyone so quiet?” Olivia finally asked, a faint smile flickering.
My wife and I exchanged looks, unsure how to respond. “Just thinking about the evening,” I replied, trying to sound light-hearted.
The unspoken question lingered, wrapping the room in a silent anticipation.