I could only see a relaxed expression I had not seen directed toward me in weeks.

When he finally came inside, a younger man followed him.

“Serena, this is Greg.”

Greg carried a leather portfolio.

His hand was cold when I shook it.

He looked from me to the dining table, where I had laid two places beside a bowl of roasted vegetables.

“I’ll get another plate,” I said.

“Don’t bother,” Patrick replied.