THROUGH THE THORNS

The morning started with a familiar tension hanging in the air. When I woke, Mark was already awake and half-dressed, his movements brisk and irritable. Even in my morning dizziness, I could feel that the atmosphere in the room felt colder than usual and sensed that his mood had soured further overnight.

"Morning," I ventured cautiously, still rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"Morning," he replied curtly, not bothering to look at me as he buttoned his shirt.

His clipped tone made my chest tighten. I bit back the urge to snap at him right then and there, but as I reached for my clothes and made my way toward the bathroom, his voice stopped me.

"Think you could hurry up?" he said, his tone sharper than necessary. "We don't have all day."

I froze mid-step, the sting of his words snapping something in me. Turning on my heel, I levelled him with a glare.