“Smells amazing,” James muttered, stepping into the kitchen.
Elaine looked up, startled. “You’re home early.”
“I was hungry,” he said, loosening his tie.
She stirred the risotto automatically, heartbeat skipping. Maybe the ultrasound changed something. Maybe he—
“Lucia brought homemade lasagna earlier,” he added casually, pulling a Tupperware from the fridge.
Elaine’s hands froze over the pot. “Oh.”
He set the container on the table, then glanced at her briefly. “You didn’t have to cook.”
“I didn’t know she already had.”
James shrugged. “She’s been doing it a lot lately.”
Elaine forced a smile. “She’s always been nurturing.”
“She said you were rude the other day.”
Her fingers tightened on the spoon. “She lied.”
James’s eyes narrowed. “Why would she?”
“I don’t know, maybe because she wants you back?” Her voice cracked before she could stop it.
“I’m not doing this,” James snapped, grabbing the lasagna and walking toward his study.