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Lance

Anita Mendoza has been a thorn in my side since I can remember. She trapped me in a marriage before I knew what the word meant, sticking to my side ever since.

At one point I had made up my mind to try to love her. But it seemed such a nuisance I kept putting it off. Later, I kept saying to myself. I'll love her later. I'll take the time later. But later has never come. I try to be cordial, but those needy eyes fill me with nothing but irritation, and every time I try to get past it, I find that I simply can't.

Upon my arrival back home, I didn't find her eagerly awaiting, or sadly lingering in the window, her face pressed against the glass like a kicked puppy.

It isn't normal for her, but it was good for me. Then dinner time comes around. I sit down, finding two plates. She's not usually late. I don't mind it, enjoying the peace and quiet for once. She's always buzzing in my ear about something, this and that, but never anything of import.

It's...different, the quiet. Just the sound of my fork scraping the plate. She must be up to something.

"...Where is she?" I say finally, halfway through my meal.

The attending maid looks around. "Who sir?"

My brow twitches in irritation. "My wife. Where is she?"

"She's having dinner alone today." The maid smiled.

Alone? Does she know the meaning of the word? Mh. Maybe she's finally maturing.

"Well...good." I smile. I go back to eating. Alone. Hm. I didn't know she was capable of leaving me alone on her own.

It feels so liberating, finally having the freedom to enjoy a meal without constant chatter.

"When did she tell you she'd be dining alone?" I ask curiously, despite myself

"Last night."

I frown and stand. Well...she's surely doing something odd. It's too much to expect her to be a mature adult, she's surely doing something stupid to get attention. I'd better check on her.

I stalk up to her room, expecting some shenanigans. It's like her. Temper tantrums are her favorite pastime after harassing me.

"What do you want?" I ask as I enter the room.

She's sitting on the bed, her plate finished next to her. She seems...oddly content. She's never content.

Her gaze rises and meets mine for a moment. She quickly breaks eye contact. "I'm unsure of what you mean." She says softly.

The first time I told myself I'd try to love her was when we were young. Eight years old. She broke her arm, and she cried so hard, I felt so guilty for not caring. I resolved that I would train myself to care deeply for her, but I told myself I'd wait until secondary school.

"Letting me eat in peace?" I smirk. "Come on. Out with it? Let me guess, you want me to go on a date with you?"

Anita is quiet. Uncharacteristically quiet. By now she would be abuzz, asking me about my trip. Telling me she missed me until I had to politely ask she leave me alone.

"No."

I blink. No. No?

"Ah, then a trip then—"

"I don't want anything," Anita murmured, closing the book in her hand. Reading. She really has matured.

"I see," I smile in approval. "Good."

She nods, standing. I brace for her to try to kiss my cheek and hold my hand, it's bothersome, but I let her, especially when she's done something good.

But she doesn't do that. She doesn't reach for my hand. Doesn't get on her tiptoes to press a tender kiss on my cheek. She opened the door a little wider, her dark eyes darting to the hallway.

I frown. "It's too good to be true. You must want something more. To spend the night with me?"

Anita says nothing, lingering by the door almost awkwardly, shifting in her spot, as she waits for me to get the hint to leave.

Hm. "I...I suppose you've begun growing up, Anita. I'm proud of you." I remark, my feet crossing the threshold as I poise to turn around and inform her, her efforts still won't win my heart.

She gives me a nod and shuts the door. I stare at the wood. I open it once more.

"And you want nothing?" I ask in disbelief.

She shakes her head. "I don't want anything from you."

I blink. Something about that sounds so permanent. If only it were true. I grin, and leave, heading to my office. I can get work done! I can relax, and not worry about a needy wife constantly nagging me.

What a relief!

I can't believe my prayers have been answered. Anita is finally acting like an adult instead of a lovesick child. My life can't get much better. Even still, something like a storm looms over me. It can't be that simple, it never is with her. 

She has an angle, I'm sure, she always does.

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