Dinner and a movie

The door opened again fifteen minutes later, and Emily swept back in carrying a plastic bag. The smell of sesame oil and garlic coming in with her. "I got the pad see ew for me, the drunken noodles for you, and those little crab rangoon things you like," she announced, kicking the door shut behind her and hanging up her coat. "Also grabbed an extra order of spring rolls as a treat."

I was still standing by the sink, the burned onions now in the bin, the pan soaking in soapy water. I'd opened the window, and the late evening air was slowly pushing out the last of the smoke smell.

"Smells good," I said. It came out flat, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Right?" She sailed past me into the living room, setting the bag down on the coffee table and starting to unpack containers. "Okay, we need plates. And forks. And drinks. Babe, can you grab us a couple of beers?"

"Sure."

I moved on autopilot. Fridge. Two bottles. Opener. The familiar motions helped ground me, even as my mind kept snagging on the same thought: accidents happen. The man's voice, that flat, cold tone. The way the cafe had frozen, the way no one else had seemed to notice. And Emily, standing there with a video she couldn't fully see, brushing off a ten-minute pornographic performance as 'kind of slipped in for a moment'.

I set the beers down and took my seat on the couch. Emily was already cross-legged, a container of pad see ew balanced on her lap, chopsticks in hand.

"Good news, by the way," she said, her tone light and bright, between bites. "Dean's been way more easygoing lately. Like, I don't know what's gotten into him, but he actually pushed back on a client request today. You know the Vanguard shit I've been bitching about? He just told them 'no, that's outside scope, we're not doing it.'" She shook her head, grinning. "I almost fell out of my chair. So me and Sarah don't have to stay late any more. We can actually leave at a normal hour."

I took a bite of my noodles. Chewed. Swallowed. "That's good, babe."

"Right? I was so stressed about it, but now it's fine. We'll actually get to spend way more time together." She reached over and squeezed my knee, her hand warm, her smile genuine. "I missed our evenings."

This was the Emily I knew. Kind. Sincere. Loving. Well, maybe a bit too loving. I chuckled darkly at the thought but Emily seemed not to notice.

"Also," she continued, reaching for a spring roll, "Marcus gave me some equipment to use at home. Said I'm progressing fast enough that I don't need to be in the gym every day, so he wants me to do some of the accessory work here."

I nodded, only half-listening. "That's nice of him."

"I know, right? He's really invested in my progress. I'll be videoing myself doing the routines and then send them to him. He'll watch them, check my form, give me feedback, and then we work on corrections during my in-person sessions." She dipped a spring roll in sweet chili sauce, took a bite, and chewed thoughtfully. "He's such a good trainer. Really cares about getting it right."

Something about the way she said 'really cares' triggered me for a moment. Yeah I bet he does. My mind was back in that bar, watching her head bob back and forth, watching her throat bulge, watching her swallow.

"Cool," I said.

She looked at me for a moment, her head tilted. "You okay? You seem quiet."

"Just tired. Long day."

She accepted that with a nod and a sympathetic smile. "Well, eat up. Then we can veg out and watch something dumb. I'm thinking a rom-com. Something where nobody dies and the biggest problem is whether she picks the hot guy or the slightly-less-hot guy with a better personality."

I managed a small laugh. "Sounds perfect."

We ate. She chatted. I nodded and made noises in the right places. The food was good. The beer was cold. The woman beside me was warm and beautiful and normal, yet I felt like I was sitting next to a stranger wearing her face.

When we finished, she cleared the containers, insisted on washing the few dishes, and came back to curl up against my side on the couch. The room was dim. The TV flickered. Her head rested on my chest, her hand a gentle weight on my stomach.

I stared at the screen and saw nothing.

My arm tightened around her, just slightly. She hummed, content, and nestled closer.