Running her spoon leisurely in the soup on the Breakfast table; she phrased her words several times in her head and then she finally came to a conclusion there wasn't any better way to say it than blurting it out
So she looked straight into his eyes and hastily informed, "I will be going to my old Penthouse today." He met her eyes and she vehemently searched his face for a sign of disapproval.
Only when she saw a small trace of a smile on his face did she realize she was seeking his approval. But why was she seeking his approval? Did it matter to her what he thought? It did. For some unknown reason, it did.
She was confused yet petrified with her own thoughts. She knew in her heart if he wasn't pleased with her decision her half of resolve and interest will evaporate.
