Jessica stared at him, waiting.
He stayed seated.
For the first time that evening, her expression lost its practiced certainty. She set the children’s things down and reached for her phone.
Nobody spoke.
When Nancy’s dinner arrived, the waitress placed it squarely in front of her.
“Hot plate,” she said softly.
Nancy cut a small piece of steak. Her hand shook once, then steadied.
Across from her, Brian stayed until she finished.
Outside, the evening heat rose from the pavement. Jessica stood beside the SUV while Brian helped the youngest child into a seat.
Nancy waited near the diner door for the car she had ordered.
Brian approached her alone.
“I’ll call tomorrow.”
“Call when you’re ready to talk honestly.”
“I am.”
Nancy looked through the windshield at Jessica.
“You don’t have to tell me about your marriage. But you do have to stop using me to keep it comfortable.”
His mouth tightened.
“I know.”
“No,” she said gently. “You’re beginning to.”
He nodded without asking her to make him feel better.
That mattered, though it was not enough yet.
The waitress came out holding Nancy’s cardigan, which had slipped onto the booth.
“I’m sorry I kept walking earlier.”
Nancy took it.
“I saw you notice.”
“I should have asked whether you needed anything.”
“Yes,” Nancy said.
The waitress accepted that, eyes bright.
“Next time I will.”
Nancy thanked her for the meal and stepped into the waiting car.
At home, she hung the cardigan on the back of a chair. The house was dark except for the small lamp beside her late husband’s photograph.
She stood in the kitchen for a long time.
Then she put the stale bread out of her mind long enough to make tea.
She had eaten dinner. She was home. She did not have to call Brian and apologize.
She repeated those facts until they stopped feeling like things she needed permission to believe.
Brian arrived the next afternoon carrying nothing.
No flowers. No grocery bag. Nancy was grateful he had resisted bringing something she would have to thank him for.
She let him in.
He sat at the kitchen table in the chair nearest the door.
“I need to tell you what I did.”
