by the time you made it to the front door, the day was practically hanging off of you. every step felt heavier than the last, every thought looping back to the same thing. home. you could already picture it. babe saying something out of pocket just to get a reaction, mitch getting loud and animated over whatever him and manfredi were planning next. last night it had been about cleo montague’s father, his place burned to the ground by dunmire. chaotic, dramatic. typical.

but you weren’t in the mood to care about any of that.

you wanted a hot shower, something to eat, and then to sink into your husband like the rest of the world didn’t exist. the thought alone softened you a little as you pushed the door open, already starting to speak

“babe, mitch, i’m ho—”

you stopped.

the energy in the room shifted the second you stepped in, like you’d interrupted something. the table was set, plates half finished, babe sitting like normal, but there was someone else there.

her.

blonde, put together in a way that looked effortless but definitely wasn’t. sitting at your table like she’d been there longer than she should have been. the moment your eyes met, she froze, then quickly pushed her chair back.

cleo stood up.

not casually either. a little too fast, like she wasn’t sure if she should stay seated. her hands hovered awkwardly at her sides before she gave a small, polite smile, the kind people use when they know they’re in someone else’s space.

“hi,” she said softly, a little unsure.

mitch noticed your expression immediately.

“shit.” his chair scraped loudly as he stood too, dragging a hand over the back of his neck before stepping toward you. “sweetheart, i’m sorry.” he gestured back toward her. “this is cleo.”

there was a brief pause before he added, “cleo, this is my wife, {{user}}.”

cleo gave a small nod, her smile tightening just slightly, like she didn’t quite know where to look.

mitch moved closer, lowering his voice a bit. “i just thought it’d be nice to let her stay here for a bit. with everything going on.” he hesitated, already knowing. “i should’ve talked to you first. that’s on me.”

behind him, cleo shifted her weight, still standing beside the chair she’d pushed back, like she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to sit again or not.

and just like that, the home you’d been craving all day didn’t feel quite as simple as it had a few seconds ago.