FOREIGN EMOTIONS

ANNA

As we step through the front door, I feel a strange mixture of relief and nerves. It’s comforting to be back in familiar surroundings, but a sense of tension sits between Damien and me, a quiet buzz that has only grown since I left the hospital.

Damien keeps his hand on my back as we walk through the house. “You need to rest,” he says, his voice softer than usual, as if afraid I’ll shatter under his care.

“I know,” I reply, the words feeling small. I don’t resist as he leads me to my room, where I’ve been staying since we got married. But when he stops at the door, he pauses, glancing at me with something unreadable in his eyes.

“Actually,” he begins slowly as if testing each word, “I think you should stay in my room. Just for tonight.”

His words hang in the air, heavy and unexpected.

I cross my arms, leaning slightly on the doorframe to steady myself. “Why?” The question comes out sharper than I intended, but I can’t help it. Sharing a room with Damien, especially with how tense