“I ate at the office.”

He poured mineral water, checked his phone, and went upstairs.

I heated rice and ate at the island beneath the blue clock.

The chair beside me remained empty.

In bed that night, he turned toward the far edge.

I kept my breathing quiet, embarrassed by how badly I wanted him to ask what was wrong.

I had thought marriage meant I would finally have a person I did not need to persuade to care where I slept.

The baby moved against my palm.