Chapter 1: The Night He Finally Opened His Eyes
For a long moment, Daniel didn't say a word.
He simply stood in the kitchen doorway.
His wife, Emma, was eight months pregnant.
Her swollen ankles trembled beneath her weight.
One hand supported her aching back while the other scrubbed a pan so hard her knuckles had turned white.
The sink overflowed with dirty dishes.
Pizza boxes littered the counter.
Empty soda cans sat beside bowls still crusted with dried sauce.
None of it belonged to her.
It belonged to the five adults relaxing comfortably in the living room.
The television laughed.
No one else did.
Daniel quietly walked to the sink.
He gently took the sponge from Emma's shaking hand.
She looked up in surprise.
"I'm almost done," she whispered.
He looked into her exhausted eyes.
"No."
"You've already done too much."
He wrapped a clean towel around her shoulders.
"Go sit down."
She hesitated.
"Your mother will be angry."
Daniel's jaw tightened.
"Then tonight..."
"...she can be angry with me."
He walked into the living room carrying the dripping frying pan.
His mother, Linda, barely looked away from her phone.
"About time she finished."
Daniel calmly placed the pan on the coffee table.
Grease splashed across Linda's favorite magazine.
She looked up immediately.
"What are you doing?"
Daniel spoke quietly.
"I'm returning something."
Silence spread across the room.
His younger brother laughed.
"Relax."
"Emma likes cleaning."
Daniel slowly turned toward him.
"No."
"Emma likes peace."
"There's a difference."
His aunt rolled her eyes.
"Oh please."
"She's pregnant, not disabled."
Daniel looked at every face in the room.
"My wife spent the last two hours cleaning after five healthy adults."
"Not one of you offered to help."
"You watched."
"You ate."
"You walked away."
Then he picked up the television remote.
May you like
The screen went black.
"Conversation starts now."
