Chapter 13

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"What's this?"

 Hadley stared at the plate of chicken stir fry and glass of milk I'd just set down in front of her.

 "I made you dinner."

"I can see that." She picked up a fork, speared some chicken and rice and took a bite. "It's pretty good. But what's the occasion?" 

 I dropped into the seat across the table from her and crossed my arms, pulling an offended look.

"What? Can't I be a nice, doting husband for once and make my wife dinner?"

Hadley grinned, setting down her glass of milk. "Of course you can, dear. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

It took her only about five minutes to scarf down the rest of the stir fry and finish off the milk, and then she was up on her feet, heading to the stove where the leftovers were.

"Rough day?" I asked.

"You have no idea," she said with a groan. "I got a new patient today, and it's not going to be easy working with him, that's for sure."

"You'll find a way. You always do."

"Thanks for the encouragement, honey."

We chatted about how our days had gone while we ate the rest of the stir fry. I hadn't done much except organizing CD proofs, clearing my memory cards and setting up appointments with clients starting next week, on January 5th. 

After washing the dinner dishes, Hadley settled herself down on the couch, propped her feet up on a pillow and flicked on the TV. 

I'd give it five minutes before she was fully engrossed in Supernatural and wouldn't miss me too much.

I had somewhere very important to be tonight.

I slipped on my shoes and shrugged into my jacket, swiped my keys off the kitchen counter.

"Where are you going?" Hadley asked me as I opened the front door. 

"Mom's."

I didn't say why I was going to Mom's, but from the knowing look that came into Hadley's eyes I figured she knew all too well what was about to happen.

 She beckoned me closer and pulled me in for a goodbye kiss.

"You'll come back soon, won't you?" she said as I pulled back.

"Always," I assured her.

 I tried to give her what I hoped was a calm, confident smile before leaving the apartment and heading outside into the brisk cold. In reality, I was freaking out on the inside.

I wasn't going over to Mom's for a friendly visit, and we weren't going to be shooting the breeze. The truth was about to come out, and I already knew it was not going to be received too well. 

I waited fifteen minutes for the next subway train and sat, twiddling my thumbs, during the short ride to Mama Rosa's. 

It was late enough in the evening to where the coffee house was closed, so I headed through the alley, unlocked the back door and made my way up to the apartment. I didn't bother with the formality of knocking. I more or less just burst through the door.

All activity ceased when I walked in, swinging the door shut behind me. The girls were already sitting at the dining table, homework spread out in front of them, looking at me with surprise.

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