Once again, breakfast on her own. The morning was sunny, the garden embraced her soothing her bruised pride with its fresh atmosphere, even the softly singing of birds kept her company while she ate. The bushes surrounded the terrace she herself insisted on so much to be built, the wooden furniture made the perfect match to the immaculate place. Her place.
The initial plan was to wake up late, oversleep a bit before facing the day, but at seven thirty she was already bathed and dressed. She had a decent night after all, not a good one but just decent. Even so, as long as her brain came to life, she started overthinking, therefore going back to sleep became impossible. Her mind wouldn't let her rest, and in the end she came down to a painful conclusion; her marriage was falling apart.
The invisible but quite palpable wall between them was wide and, worst of it, impenetrable. The bitter taste came beyond just a quick and unsatisfying fuck, it came from a damaged relationship that needed to be saved quickly, for the sake of their relationship yes, but also for her heart's sake. She could not bear losing Henry, no more than now. He seemed distant, cold, and even disappointed with her. Frida couldn't help but wonder what he expected from her after all this time. Maybe she was doing something wrong, maybe she needed to give more, maybe she wasn't the wife he needed. That hurt her, deeply, because she lived for him.
Frida chewed the fruit slowly, consciously, staring at some point on the table. She needed to act, act quickly. She straightened her back when, all of a sudden, Henry himself sat in his place across the table. Frida was so immersed in her troubled mind that didn't realize when the cause of her concern arrived. As usual, Henry kept a reserved attitude, almost rigid.
"Good morning." He said, taking a piece of bread from the tray.
"Good morning, sir." Alice said, appearing beside him. Frida didn't see her either. "Coffee?"
"Please, Alice." He waited for the woman to serve him. "Thank you."
Alice nodded and retired. Silently, Frida watched as Henry prepared his coffee; three tablespoons of sugar, without cream. He mixed the content in silence, and Frida finally continued with her breakfast. "I said good morning." Henry said in a serious tone, a pinch of severity peeking through his voice.
Frida hurried to shallow and, after wiping the corner of her mouth, replied softly. "Hi." She peaked at him just a quick glance. For some reason, and after all she meditated, she felt restrained.
Henry let out a dark grin which made her feel smaller. "Do I bother you or something?"
"No! Not at all." Frida hurried to reply, placing the napkin beside her plate.
"Hmm..." Henry made a bad face and focused on his food. Frida stared at him, considering what else she could add. "Are you going to look at me the whole morning or will you have breakfast?"
She blushed and looked down. "You don't have to be rough, you know?" She murmured.
Henry raised an eyebrow and put his hands clenched on each side of his plate. "I beg your pardon?"
"I... I meant..."
"What, Anni-Frid?"
She messed it up, again! Frida pursed her lips, feeling in trouble. "Nothing. Sorry."
"Yes, sorry. That's all you have to say always." Henry mocked darkly.
That felt like a slap. Did she deserve that? No. Did she feel sorry? No. Frida took a deep breath and gathered courage before speaking. "Actually, I meant it." Henry looked up at her, his gaze harsh. She swallowed hard. "Sometimes you are so hard on me that I've got to think I bother you. And to be honest, it hurts me."
