“Ma’am, your bath is ready.”
Marian stepped out of the bathroom, her eyes meeting Patricia’s in the mirror. Patricia’s tone was mild but cool. “I told you I wouldn’t be home for dinner tonight. Did you let him know?”
“I did,” Marian said quietly, sneaking a glance toward the doorway. “But I don’t know why he got so upset.”
“Did you two argue again?”
“No,” Patricia answered, her voice flat. “Go ahead and get some rest.”
Marian lingered for a second, looking worried. “Alright, I’ll go. But if there’s anything you need to talk about, please just talk it out. Try not to fight.”
“I know.”
After her bath, Patricia came out to find Oliver already in bed. He was wearing black silk pajamas, propped up against the headboard with his phone in hand, reading something that looked work-related. Patricia noticed the phone. Same style as before, but she could tell it was brand new.
She slid under the covers on her side, not saying a word, just grabbing her own phone to answer a few messages. She ignored Ann’s invitation, not really in the mood for anything social.
Around eleven-thirty, she set her phone aside, turned off her bedside lamp, and settled in to sleep.
As her side of the bed faded into darkness, Oliver turned to look at her, just a slim figure curled up under the blanket. He switched off his own light and lay down beside her. His hand settled on her waist, fingers moving slowly upward, the way he always did when he wanted more than just sleep.
Patricia caught his hand and held it still. “I’m tired.”
“You can go ahead and sleep.”
She didn’t let go. “I don’t want to.”
“Are you upset because I came to pick you up today? If that’s it, I’m sorry. You didn’t take a driver, you just went out on your own, so I was worried.”


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