Emma didn't sleep.
She stared at the ceiling of the guest room until three in the morning, replaying every word of their fight. The guest room bed was uncomfortable—too soft, with pillows that smelled like fabric softener instead of home.
She could hear Alek moving around their bedroom. Getting water. Going to the bathroom. Probably not sleeping either.
Good.
At six, she heard him get up for his morning run. She waited until the front door closed before sneaking back to their room for work clothes.
By the time he returned, she was in the kitchen making coffee and packing Charlotte's hockey bag for after-school practice. Acting like everything was normal.
"Morning," Alek said carefully, stretching against the counter.
"Morning." Emma didn't look up from Charlotte's water bottle.
"Ho
