Daniel sat at the dining table, his fork absentmindedly poking at the food on his plate. Across from him, James was uncharacteristically quiet, his small face scrunched up in thought as he picked at his dinner. The air between them was heavy, a tension that neither seemed able to break.
Finally, James spoke, his voice cautious. "Dad?"
Daniel glanced up, startled out of his thoughts. "Yeah, James?"
James hesitated, twirling a piece of spaghetti on his fork. "Are you and Anabella getting a divorce?"
The question hit Daniel like a punch to the gut. He froze, his mind racing as he tried to come up with an answer that would be both honest and gentle. But the look on James's face told him that the boy deserved the truth.
"Yeah," Daniel said after a long pause, his voice quieter than he intended. "We are."
James's fork clattered against his plate as he set it down. "Why?"
