[Third Person].
Meredith ate her mango sorbet slowly, the cold sweetness barely registering on her tongue as she waited. Her gaze drifted toward the bathroom door more than once.
Thankfully, it opened within five minutes.
Draven stepped out, already dressed in casual clothes, his long hair still slightly damp. When his eyes met hers, a small, instinctive smile curved his lips. Meredith returned it faintly.
He crossed the room and sat beside her on the couch, reaching for his own glass of mango sorbet.
For a while, neither of them spoke. The quiet between them was not uncomfortable, but it was heavy, charged and unfinished.
Meredith knew intimacy was off the table tonight. Too much had happened today. And if she didn't speak now, she was certain the truth would rot inside her.
So, she inhaled softly. "I visited your mother after breakfast today."
Draven paused mid-scoop. His eyes flicked to her face, sharp and alert. "How is she?" he asked.
