Comfort
He hears her car door shut as he pours two glasses of white wine to go with the linguini and shrimp with creamy alfredo sauce he made. He shakes his head with a knowing grin as he glances at the clock that reads it's just past 7:30, and murmurs to himself as he places the bottle on the table next to the plates. He glances at her briefly as she comes through the door and deposits her belongings, before making her way towards the glorious smell in her kitchen. She just sighs amusedly and grants him an appreciative smile. She is not surprised that he is here, it's not the first time, and she is positive it won't be the last. They eat lazily, making quiet small talk and swapping gossip, such a stanch difference from the screaming matches and bitter remarks flung back and forth at work. Although none get to see this side of them, and few would believe it if they did, they relax and take comfort in each other's company.