Tuesday morning arrived with a cloudless sky.
Damon stood in the kitchen, a mug of black coffee in hand, watching his wife fuss over her son.
"I still think you should stay home today, Leo," Helen said, pressing a warm compress against Leo's shoulder as he sat at the breakfast bar. "You're moving like an eighty-year-old man. The stiffness is worse than yesterday."
Leo offered her a brave, slightly strained smile. He was wearing a pair of tailored black trousers and a deep emerald silk-blend shirt that perfectly matched his eyes, but the stiffness was real. The carpet burns on his knees were healing, but the muscles in his thighs were tight.
"I'll be fine, Mom. It's just delayed onset muscle soreness," Leo lied smoothly, picking up a piece of toast. "Besides, Damon needs me. We have the Tokyo wrap-up today."
He glanced past his mother's shoulder, meeting Damon's eyes.
Damon didn't look away. He took a slow sip of his coffee.
