Elizabeth

When she opened the door and returned to the living room, she found John sitting in one of the armchairs, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together.

Elizabeth stopped, saying nothing.

John slowly raised his eyes and looked at her briefly. There was no longer any anger in his gaze, but there was no tenderness either.

“Let’s go,” John said, heading for the door.

“John!” she called out to him boldly.

He stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“What did I do?”