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38. Going home

Avery sat at the kitchen table, the steam rising from her cup of coffee as she listened intently to Eleanor's recounting of her honeymoon. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the tension that hung between them like a heavy cloud.

"Can you believe he paid the bills? I don't know why? First, he acts all weird, taunting me and all that. The next instant, he acts so nice and calm. His mixed behavior is confusing me," Eleanor grumbled, her frustration evident in the furrow of her brow.

"He's not that bad then," Avery remarked, taking a sip of her coffee, the warmth of the cup a comforting contrast to the coldness that seemed to seep into the room.

Avery's casual comment only seemed to fuel Eleanor's irritation, her own coffee forgotten and growing cold as ice beside her. "You're not here to praise him, Avery. Give me something to wipe that grin off his face."

Avery rolled her eyes, the weight of Eleanor's bitterness becoming increasingly tiresome. "For once, ca
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