My family had the extremely generous wherewithal to make their presence scarce that Friday evening.
We were sitting at our typically-unused kitchen table, Bella only poking at her dinner.
Softly I placed a hand on her cheek, willing her to look me in the eye.
When she met my gaze I smiled crookedly, startling her heart into a jagged thumping rhythm for a moment.
"What are you thinking, love?"
She tore her eyes from mine, pinning her stare on the vintage wooden flooring to her left.
"It's nothing."
The sigh that escaped my lips was tired and crestfallen, every part of me aching for what she kept held tightly inside. Someday I would understand her sadness.
I stood, moving to sit nearer to her.
Cupping a hand under her chin, I tried to read the emotion flitting through her downcast chocolate eyes.
"Whatever you're thinking, you are everything to me, Bella. I will be here next to you, forever, until you tell me otherwise."
The tears that promptly gushed, overflowing, at the corner of her eyes was a dead giveaway.
Still gripped by the panic and anxiety that the next time would be the last time. Always.