Chapter 2 - His Hand Stayed Near My Plate
The quiet after his words was worse than the words. The sconces buzzed faintly against the wood panels, and I could hear Sofia breathing where she sat curled on his lap.
Alexander didn't look at me. He looked at the table, at the plates going cold in front of us, his jaw working like he was trying to keep the rest of it in. His right arm stayed around Sofia. His left hand stayed near my plate, fingers flat on the dark wood just past the gold rim, close enough that I couldn't have lifted my fork without brushing him.
I told myself to be careful. She was watching us.
"Hey, baby," I said, and I made my voice lighter than I felt. "Your steak's getting cold. You want me to cut a little piece for you?"
Sofia didn't answer right away. She glanced up at Alexander first, as if she needed permission. That cut deeper than anything he'd said. She was three. She shouldn't have to check.
"It's okay," I added softly. "Dad's just tired. We're just tired."
Alexander's hand didn't move. The watch on his wrist caught the light when his fingers tightened. He still hadn't touched his food. The lemon wedge on his plate had started to dry at the edge, the greens wilting into the juice from the tomatoes.
"She's not hungry," he said.
It wasn't loud. It was flat. He tucked Sofia a fraction closer with his arm, and she settled into it automatically, her cream blouse bunching at his suit jacket. Her little bow had slipped sideways. I wanted to fix it.
I tried again. I kept my eyes on her, not on him.
"We can just sit for a minute," I said. "No one's mad at you, sweetheart. I promise."
Sofia picked at a fold in her blouse. She looked from me to the plate in front of Alexander, to the knife laid beside it. She didn't reach for anything. She leaned her head back against his chest instead and went very still, the way she did when she was trying not to cry in front of people.
That stopped me. My throat closed.
"Alexander," I said, quieter. "Please. She's scared."
His eyes lifted then. Just for a second. There was no shouting in them. That was what frightened me. It was control, held so tight his shoulders shook with it.
"She should stay with me," he said.
I nodded before I could think, because I didn't want her to see me argue. I folded my hands in my lap so she wouldn't see them shaking. The pearl in my left earring swung when I moved and brushed my neck, cold.
"Okay," I said. "Okay, that's fine. She can stay with you."
I reached slowly for my water glass, giving him time to pull his hand back if he wanted to. He didn't. His fingers stayed where they were, guarding the space between us. I drank anyway, careful not to bump him, and set the glass down without a sound.
The food sat between us. Two untouched steaks. The tomatoes bleeding color onto the white plates. Nobody moved to eat. The room felt too warm from the sconces, the wood panels closing in.
Sofia whispered, "Dada?"
"I'm here," he said immediately. His voice changed for her, softened around the edges. He smoothed her hair back from her forehead. "I've got you."
She nodded and put her thumb near her mouth, then stopped herself. She looked at me. Those big worried eyes.
I smiled for her. I hoped it looked real.
"Do you want to finish your milk?" I asked.
She shook her head.
For a long minute none of us spoke. The only movement was Alexander's thumb rubbing a slow circle on her shoulder, over and over, like he was trying to calm himself as much as her. I watched his hand near my plate. He wasn't eating. He wasn't letting me eat either, not really. He was holding the table.
Finally he pushed his chair back. The legs scraped against the floor, loud in the quiet. Sofia startled and grabbed his tie with one fist.
"Easy," he murmured to her. He stood in one motion, lifting her with him like she weighed nothing. She wrapped her legs around his waist and buried her face in his neck.
I stood too, half out of instinct. "Where—"
"Upstairs," he said. He didn't look at me. "She's done."
I glanced at her plate, still full, at mine. "She didn't eat."
"She can eat later." He adjusted her higher on his hip. Her bow slipped further, hanging loose in her curls.
I came around the edge of the table before I could stop myself, then stopped when he turned his shoulder slightly, keeping Sofia on the far side from me. It wasn't a big movement. It was enough.
"Let me just—" I said, gesturing helplessly toward her. "Let me come up and help with her teeth. Her bath. We always—"
"Not tonight."
The words landed flat. Sofia lifted her head at my expression and reached one hand toward me. I stepped forward, but Alexander was already moving toward the doorway, her hand falling back to his shoulder.
I stood there with the table between us, the sconce light hot on my face. The steaks sat congealing in their juice. My fork hadn't moved. His knife lay exactly where the staff had placed it.
At the doorway he paused. I thought he would say something else. He didn't. He just held her tighter and walked out, her curly head bobbing over his shoulder until the hall swallowed them.
May you like
I listened to his steps fade on the stairs. Then there was nothing but the tick of the room and the cooling plates in front of me.
I sat back down because my legs wouldn't hold me. I stared at his empty chair, at the dent Sofia's weight had left in his suit pants, invisible now, at the handprint of warmth fading from the wood where his hand had been near my plate.
