“Oh my God.”
Grace lifted her hands.
“So honesty is illegal now?”
“No,” Harold said. “But disrespect has consequences.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Is that a threat?”
“No. It’s a boundary.”
“I’m sick of that word.”
“That doesn’t make it disappear.”
They stared at each other.
And for the first time, I saw something shift.
Grace finally seemed to understand that Harold wasn’t performing for me.
This wasn’t temporary.
He meant it.
He had reached some invisible limit.
And once Grace saw that, she became strangely calm.
That frightened me more than the yelling.
She put down the suitcase.
“All right.”
Harold frowned.
“All right?”
“I’ll stay until morning.”
Then she gave him a faint smile.
“I don’t want to create a scene.”
I looked at the two missing bedroom doors.
A scene had already happened.
Possibly an entire season.
But Harold nodded.
“Fine.”
Grace went back into the guest room.
Then turned around.
“Could you at least hang a blanket?”
Harold paused.
“That’s fair.”
She smiled sweetly.
Too sweetly.
“Thank you.”
I should have known.
Grace surrendering quietly should have worried me more than Grace screaming.
But it was after midnight.
We were exhausted.
So Harold hung a thick comforter across the guest-room doorway.
Then we went downstairs.
Our own bedroom door was still leaning against the wall.
“I could reinstall ours now,” he said.
“At one in the morning?”
He looked at the hinges.
Then at me.
“Good point.”
We hung a blanket there too.
For the first time all night, I laughed.
Harold sat on the edge of the bed.
