The silence in the house was different the next morning. It wasn't the heavy, expectant silence of the day before the handover, nor was it the empty silence of a house waiting to be filled. It was a released silence. The weight of the foundation, the board, the endless strategic planning—it had all shifted shoulders. It belonged to Eleanor now.
I woke before Marcus. This was becoming a habit. In the early years, Marcus had always been the first to rise, the engine that started the day. He would be in the study, or the garden, or already dressed in a suit that cost more than my first car. Now, he slept later. His breathing was heavier, punctuated by occasional pauses that made me hold my breath until he exhaled again.
I slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb the mattress. The floorboa
