With a sense of hospitality and a desire to make Elena feel comfortable, I began to serve her food. It was a small but meaningful gesture, a way to convey my consideration for her presence in my home.
As I attended to this simple act of serving a meal, a maid appeared seemingly out of nowhere, her presence unobtrusive but efficient. She addressed me with polite deference, her words respectful and anticipatory. "Sir, may I?"
My gaze bore down on the maid who had appeared, her presence an unwelcome intrusion into the intimate moment I sought to share with Elena. She instinctively took a step back, her awkward smile revealing her discomfort in the face of my unwavering scrutiny. It was clear that I had unintentionally made my desire to serve my wife abundantly evident; I didn't want anyone, even a well-meaning maid, to disrupt this special moment.
