When he came out to the living room finally after washing up she had a
coffee
waiting for him. He gulped. She never made him coffee or tea. It was always him doing that. She must be upset about something.
This was the cost of being at fault. Having done something wrong. You would always be paranoid that your
girlfriend
would be upset with you even though the chances she found out were slim. But once you had committed one unknown transgression, every little thing she did would feel like a
signal
. I know what you did.
He considered asking 'something wrong?' or 'everything okay?' but thought it would make things worse. Instead he thanked her for the coffee and took a few sips waiting for her to speak.
She said nothing. She sat down with a copy of the most recent Economist magazine and sat there gleaming at it. Her face looked like she had just heard some annoying news. She did know, he thought. But he also knew her face always looked like that when she was concentrating. The Economist was a magazine that required concentration right?
"You were sleeping in," she said with neither positive or negative emotion.
"Mm," he said before taking a big gulp.
The coffee was not as good compared to when he made it. He would've put the stovetop percolator on a lower heat setting, which would mean a longer wait time, but a smoother cup. Some things just took more time. And it was worth it.
He thought about telling her what happened last night, stealing one more glance at her face.