I turn one of the sausages. It resists slightly before releasing.
“I’m making dinner,” I tell her.
“Oh?”
“Sausages.”
She laughs softly.
“Living dangerously, I see.”
I lean against the counter.
“I missed you today.”
The words leave before I can edit them.
There’s a small pause.
“I missed you too,” she says.
Warmth spreads through me, quiet and certain.
“I want to see you soon,” I add carefully.
Another pause.
Longer this time.
I watch the sausages, listening to the oil spit against the pan.
“I’d like that,” she says finally.
But something in her voice is different.
Not wrong.
Just… softer. Like she’s standing slightly further away.
I frown slightly, turning the heat down.
“How was your day?”
“It was fine.”
Fine.
Not bad.
Not good.
Fine.
I wait.
She doesn’t elaborate.
She usually does.