*Bianca*
Three nights.
I tapped the tip of my fingers against the edge of the wooden table. The tablecloth I’d spent hours setting up now boasted its frayed edges where I’d slowly unraveled the pieces of yarn from one another. The candles had long burned out, leaving me in total darkness.
I glanced at the untouched silverware I’d spent hours cleaning and arranging after finding them deep within the cabinets. Dinner had long grown cold, the untouched noodles had turned to soft mush, and the bread had hardened into rocks.
Despite that, I still sat there in the dark at the kitchen table set for two.
But only one chair was occupied.
Leo didn’t come home, again.
For three nights, I’d set the table and waited for Leo to come home, three dinners that went into the trash, and candles that were quickly running out of wick from their overuse. I stared blankly at the imaginary dinner guest across from me, wondering if I was beginning to lose my mind.
