The sun had barely set when Ethan pulled into his driveway, Ever and the children in tow. Now, as she settled in, an odd tension hung in the air ,she couldn't quite place but could feel in every glance Ambrose threw her way.
Leo, ever observant, noticed it too.
Later that evening, as hunger kicked in, Leo wandered into the kitchen, his small feet padding softly against the floor. He found Ambrose standing by the counter, cutting a watermelon into neat slices.
The boy hesitated before speaking. "Can I have a glass of water?"
Ambrose didn't look up. "I'm busy," he muttered, waving the knife slightly as he continued cutting. "Ask your mom."
Leo's fingers curled slightly at his sides. He wasn't used to being dismissed like that.
He glanced at the juicy slices of watermelon Ambrose was arranging on a plate, the care and attention he was putting into each piece. Was it for Natalia? Or the baby Ambrose thought was his?
