“I’ve missed you,” the wine glass twirled between her fingers as she watched the light refracted through the glass; so much easier than watching him. Media tightened her grip on the stem, setting it down with precise care and raising her head to look across the table at him. “And I haven’t been feeling myself lately. Then the fight with Caridad just –” she sighed and dropped her hands back into her lap.
It was easier to talk about the argument. That was something concrete for her to draw anger from, no awkward questions about what and why. “It’s been a strange season for me; every time I turn around something has changed and I don’t know where I’m standing any more.”