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I won’t let either of them see me upset. I dig my heels in, bite down the hurt and drag on that perfect mask of indifference. He wanders the last few feet to greet the opening doors, and I stiffen inside. I try to relax, try to make this look as natural as I can sitting here with my food. I channel hop to find something to watch, without any sort of attention or focus on the screen, laying my water on the table and pull over a cushion for my lap to cradle my plate.

I hear Natasha’s voice in the foyer with his, greeting him, and mumbling small talk. I refuse to look their way, even though my heart is hammering in my chest and just focus on the music at the start of the movie I randomly clicked on. I don’t want to see them embrace, kiss or whatever; he must be gone in the head to think this is anything but abnormal.

“Hi, Sophie. You look nice today.” Natasha’s silky sweet putrid voice sets my teeth on edge and I turn her way with a fak