“Are you coming straight home from the office today?” I asked.

“I have a meeting with a new vendor at four o’clock,” Daniel said.

“I should be back by six.”

He stood up and picked up his heavy binder.

He left the bowl of oatmeal untouched on the counter.

I sat in the glow of the shared desktop monitor at half past six that evening.

The home office smelled faintly of the lemon cleaner I had used on the oak baseboards over the weekend.

I had a stack of monthly utility bills next to the keyboard and a green ceramic mug of cold morning tea sitting on a cork coaster.