Natalie tries to get some work done

Natalie sat cross-legged in her bed, with her laptop on a stand in front of her. There was a half-finished presentation pulled up on her screen, for a client project she hadn’t wrapped up at the office, and a yellow pad with scrawled notes rested beside her. She was working, or at least trying to, hoping that staying focused on a project would keep her occupied.

The knock at her door brought her to a stop mid-sentence. She stared in its direction, then back at the blinking cursor. He never knocked. Passing in the hall or bumping into each other in the kitchen had always been the standard. She wasn’t sure she was ready for whatever reason he might be at her door.

Setting the laptop aside, she brushed any wrinkles out of the comforter, stalling against the sudden lump in her throat. Maybe he was finally coming to confront her. The thought made her insides do somersaults. She hadn’t just stumbled onto him that night and scurried away. She’d stayed and watched, hidden in the shadow of the hall when she should have turned away. And then her foot, that stupid slip against the floor, had given her away.

Now every time she thought of it, she couldn’t decide which was worse, that she’d been caught intruding on something private, or that she hadn’t wanted to look away from what she was seeing.

She stood and adjusted her tank top, as if that did anything to prepare her, then reached for the knob. For a moment her hand hovered, unready to remove the wooden barrier that had been protecting her from facing him. Finally, she turned it and pulled the door open.

Aiden was standing just a step back, with his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweats. His hair was slightly mussed, a look he got when he ran his hands through it too many times, and his eyes darted past her shoulder before coming back to her face.

“Hey,” he said, carefully.

She leaned against the edge of the door, one arm wrapped loosely over her stomach. “Hey.”

For a second, both of them stood in the awkward pause. She almost asked what he wanted, but the way he shifted from foot to foot made it obvious he was working up to something.

“Did my mom call you today?” he asked finally.

Natalie blinked, caught off guard. “Yeah… she did.”

He nodded, tensing his jaw, like he was bracing for her to say more. “She, uh… told me she’s coming up this weekend.”

“Me too,” Natalie replied, tilting her head as if studying him. “She mentioned it when we talked.” Of course this was what he wanted to talk about, she thought to herself.

“Right.” He exhaled, looking down at the floor between them, then back at her. “I just wanted to make sure she actually told you. Sometimes she leaves that kind of thing for me to mention, and I didn’t want her to show up unexpectedly.”

The way he said it came across as earnest, almost apologetic, and made something in her chest pinch. She’d expected more tension, maybe even some vague reference to the other night, but instead he was standing there worrying about logistics, about her.

“Thanks for letting me know,” she said after a moment, the softness in her own voice surprising her.

He nodded, shifting his weight again as though he wasn’t sure if that was his cue to leave.

Natalie’s eyes skimmed over him, and the shadows under his appeared deeper than usual. Before she even thought about it, she heard herself asking, “You don’t look so great. Have you eaten?”

“Uh… not really. I was gonna grab something later,” he answered, glancing up in surprise.

She pursed her lips together, torn between ending it there and the instincts that came with years of being the dutiful wife. Finally, she sighed, pushing off from the door frame. “I’ll make something quick. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not,” she replied. “I need to make something for myself anyway, so it’s no bother.”

He hesitated, like he wanted to argue but couldn’t quite find the words. “All right, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” She gave him a small nod before pulling the door the rest of the way open and brushed past him toward the kitchen.

Aiden turned slightly as she passed, watching her cross the short hall, then rubbed the back of his neck, caught between relief and the nerves he was still feeling.

“I’ll get you in a few,” she added, giving him a pointed look when she saw he hadn’t moved.

“Right,” he said, moving a step toward his own door. “Yeah, okay.”

She turned toward the kitchen, and heard his door shut. The solitude gave her a moment to gather herself, as she pulled a pan from the cabinet and started working.

When she eventually called him out, they sat across from each other at the small table. Conversation stayed in the realm of small talk, discussing school, work, and a debate about the weather getting colder again. None of it reached past surface level, but in some ways it reminded her of the first weeks after he moved in, when they’d still been figuring out the dynamics of living together.

It wasn’t comfortable by any stretch, but it was also a sign that they could still be in the same room. A step toward talking before Lisa arrived and she’d have to pretend like everything was completely normal.

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