She was standing in the kitchen door, looking across the hallway into the living room. Watching her husband play with their son in the living room. The man pulled the boy close and she could see his lips make the words: “Listen, Trevor. This is important.”
The night before, they had a long talk. Not a fight, they did not fight anymore. He was mourning after their dead love. She wished she could speak about love in romantic terms like that. To her, it had been no more than a word for years now. Then he spoke about the other woman.
When they were done talking, he went downstairs to sleep on the couch. She cried quietly for a little while and then slept the sleep of the dead into the morning.
He let the boy go and left the room. Trevor got back to the toy train, but there was intense focus in his face.
She went back into the kitchen to pour herself some more wine.