For a moment, Kiki was still, weighing whether or not to really burst into tears. Then Pete smiled, and that was the magic fix she needed. With a slow crumple of her shoulders, Kiki went soft, kittenish, and she gave Pete a small, babyish smile.
"You sure?" she murmured, as if unsure, but Pete's promise that she didn't look terrible was a relief. With delicate, tentative bites, she dug in to the omelet, her stomach growling with happiness; and in seconds, her strop was forgotten.
"God, Pete, this is fucking delicious!" Kiki smiled at Lena, as if her friend had vocalized some concern about her husband's cooking.