The rest of Lena’s day passed like a film on fast-forward.
After the call with Alan ended—after the calm, terrifying certainty of lawyers are handling it now settled in—her body finally caught up with her emotions. Exhaustion hit her like a wave. The kind that settled in her bones, in her swollen ankles, in the dull ache at the base of her spine that pregnancy had made all too familiar.
And hunger.
Real hunger.
The kind that didn’t want elegance or perfection, but warmth. Comfort. Home. And a big plate… full.
By the time she set her bag down in the apartment, she already knew what she wanted.
Soup.
Thick, hearty, steaming, full of vegetable… like a minestrone.
Freshly baked bread with a crackling crust, with butter and garlic, lots of garlic.
Chicken slow-simmered in tomato sauce,
