A few drops.
Then he quickly returned the bottle to his pocket.
I didn’t move.
He turned around and nearly dropped the mug.
“Margaret!”
“What was that?”
“What was what?”
“The bottle.”
He glanced at his pocket.
“It’s a supplement.”
“What supplement?”
“A herbal preparation. For sleep.”
“Why would you put something for sleep in my tea without telling me?”
His expression softened, but his eyes remained alert.
“Because you’ve been struggling to sleep, and I wanted to help.”
“I haven’t been struggling to sleep. I’ve been sleeping too much.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he laughed.
Not naturally. Not the warm laugh I knew.
It was a short, sharp sound that ended almost as soon as it began.
“Darling, you’re overthinking this.”
He held out the mug.
“Here. It’s getting cold.”
I looked at the tea.
Then at him.
“I don’t want it.”
His hand remained extended.
