The warm glow of the dining room chandelier bathed the space in golden light, casting a soft ambiance over the dinner table where Ruby and Stefan sat. It was quiet, peaceful—a rare moment of stillness after the storm that had been the last few hours.
Ruby glanced down at her plate of roasted potatoes and grilled chicken, gently pushing them around with her fork. Her appetite hadn't fully returned since morning, but she tried anyway. She could tell Stefan had made an effort—everything was mild, comforting, just the way she liked it.
Stefan looked up from his own plate when he noticed her slow pace. "Too much?"
Ruby shook her head with a soft smile. "No. It's perfect. I'm just… still a little queasy."
He nodded, reaching out to gently brush his fingers across hers. "We'll figure out what your stomach likes eventually. Until then, I'm up for the challenge."
Just then, Stefan's phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with a name Ruby had become very familiar with.
