Straw slept in another room for the first time since they got married. This was the first time Berryanna had told her to leave the room. Usually Berryanna was the one who leaves. This time it was Straw.
The bed had felt larger than it was. Colder. She had lain on her back staring at the ceiling, listening to sounds that were not there. No steady breathing beside her. No familiar warmth reaching for her in the middle of the night. She had not slept much.
The next morning during breakfast, Apple and Straw sat at the table in silence. The cutlery made soft, controlled sounds against porcelain. No words passed between them. Apple thought it was because of what he had done yesterday, telling Berryanna about the sculpture. He avoided looking at her for too long.
But Straw was thinking about something entirely different.
