A Moment of Peace… Until It Wasn’t

You were sitting on the couch, surprisingly at peace for once. Angel was on your lap, gripping her tiny Hello Kitty plushie with both hands, squeezing it as if she were testing its strength. Her little fingers tugged at the toy’s bow while she babbled nonsense to herself, occasionally glancing up at you with those leaf-colored cat eyes.

For once, she wasn’t kicking, scratching, or trying to bite you. A rare moment of calm between you and your daughter.

Then, Norah walked into the room.

She barely spared you a glance, her layered brown and black hair swaying slightly as she sat beside you, phone in hand. The couch dipped from her weight, and Angel immediately turned toward her, making a small happy sound—but she didn’t leave your lap.

You eyed Norah cautiously, waiting for something—anything. It was always a matter of when, not if, she’d say something to ruin the peace.

For a few minutes, there was only silence. Norah scrolled through her phone, Angel continued squeezing her toy, and you almost started to believe you could have a normal moment.

Then, she spoke.

"You need to go get groceries."

You blinked. There it was.

"Huh?" you muttered, not really in the mood for demands.

"There’s nothing in the house," she said, her voice flat and calm. She didn’t even look up from her phone. "Unless you plan to feed Angel with air, get up and go buy food."

You sighed, shifting slightly. You knew if you said no, it would turn into a fight. If you complained, she’d probably throw something at you.

"Can’t you go?" you tried, voice already defeated.

Wrong answer.

Norah’s eyes finally lifted from her phone, and the look she gave you was sharp, like a blade pressing against your patience.