Chapter 10
Weeks turned into a smooth, albeit unusual, rhythm of alternating rotations. The nesting arrangement proved surprisingly effective at shielding Lily from the worst of her parents' marital dissolution. Her grades remained high, her teachers reported no behavioral changes, and the anxious look in her eyes had largely been replaced by the bright, carefree energy typical of a seven-year-old. For Arthur and Elena, the shared custody of the physical house forced a strange, civil professionalism. They communicated through a shared digital calendar app and left polite, concise notes on the kitchen counter regarding grocery restocking and utility bills.
One Wednesday evening during Elena’s rotation, Arthur returned to the family home to pick up a forgotten architectural blueprint he needed for a morning presentation. It was past eight o'clock, and he assumed the house would be empty, as Elena usually worked late at her downtown design consultancy on Wednesdays. He unlocked the front door quietly, stepping into the dim foyer.
To his surprise, a soft light emanated from the living room. As he walked closer, he saw Elena sitting in the reading chair beneath Lily’s framed drawing. She had kicked off her heels, and her reading glasses rested on the bridge of her nose as she reviewed a stack of financial portfolios. She looked up as Arthur entered the room, her expression flickering with mild surprise before settling into a neutral mask.
"I forgot my blueprint," Arthur explained softly, gesturing toward his office door. "I didn't mean to intrude on your week."
"You're not intruding, Arthur. Your name is still on the deed," Elena replied, closing the portfolio and setting it on the side table. She looked up at the framed artwork hanging above her. "She really loves that drawing, you know."
"I know," Arthur said, stepping further into the room. He hesitated for a moment before speaking the question that had been lingering in the back of his mind for weeks. "How are you holding up, Elena? Really?"
May you like
Elena let out a dry, humorless laugh, removing her glasses and rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Some days it feels like I'm playing house in a museum of a life we used to have. Other days... it feels like the cleanest slate I could have ever asked for." She looked directly at him, her dark eyes steady. "And you?"
"I'm learning how to pay attention," Arthur answered honestly. "To the things that actually matter."
