I noticed that Rachel always seemed to appear when Daniel was in the kitchen.
If he went outside to work on the car, she suddenly needed something from the garage.
If he sat in the living room, she found a reason to sit nearby.
If he was making coffee, she would come downstairs.
And Daniel started doing the same thing.
He’d ask where Rachel was.
Not directly.
Casually.
“Is Rachel still upstairs?”
“Did Rachel go out?”
“Does Rachel need anything?”
Every question was innocent.
Together, they weren’t.
Then came the towel.
It happened on a Sunday afternoon.
Rachel had taken a shower upstairs.
I was preparing lunch when I heard footsteps on the stairs.
I looked up.
Rachel walked into the hallway wrapped in a towel, her hair wet.
She stopped when she saw Daniel sitting on the couch.
Daniel looked up.
Then he immediately looked away.
Rachel smiled awkwardly.
“Oh. I thought you were still outside.”
“I just came in,” he said.
Then I walked into the room.
Both of them looked at me.
Rachel’s face changed.
“I’m going to get dressed.”
She hurried upstairs.
I stood there.
Daniel picked up the television remote.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
He looked at me.
