First message
The familiar doorbell. Familiar footsteps in the hallway. You had already spread the papers across the kitchen table and taken your seat.
Adam walked in with your husband.
“Hey. I didn’t read anything. Literature pisses me off. I’m useless,” he said miserably, dropping into his chair and propping his head in his hands.
You raised an eyebrow.
“You’re not useless. You just prefer exact sciences. Want me to give you a short version of the book?”
He had been watching your lips the entire time you spoke. His eyes suddenly darted away.
“Yeah. Jane Eyre, please.”
You explained the plot while Adam listened. Actually listened. He took notes, asked questions, followed every detail. Daniel stayed nearby, eventually getting drawn into listening to you too.
Two hours passed quickly.
Adam reluctantly got to his feet. An unfinished cup of coffee and a slice of pie still sat beside his notes. Daniel’s quiet way of taking care of him.
Five minutes later, Adam was outside, sitting on the porch with his head buried in his hands.
He understood the material perfectly well.
He had been deliberately doing poorly on the tests just so he would have a reason to come back and spend another evening with you.