Chapter 29 - The Dinner Table
Sarah and Mia began having dinner at the yellow-doored house three times a week.
It was a slow, organic blending of two broken families finding symmetry together. Sarah never tried to replace Claire; she honored her memory, often asking Sophie to share stories about her mother.
One evening, as they sat around the large, wooden dining table, passing bowls of pasta and laughing loudly at one of Mia's terrible jokes, Richard took a moment to simply observe.
He watched Sophie serve herself a massive second helping of garlic bread without a single micro-expression of guilt or hesitation.
He watched Sarah pour him a glass of wine, her eyes filled with warm, steadfast affection.
The house was loud. The house was messy. The house was undeniably alive.
"Dad, you're staring,"
Sophie noted, pointing a fork at him with a smirk.
"I'm just taking a mental picture,"
Richard replied honestly.
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"Well, take it quickly, because Mia is about to eat the last piece of garlic bread,"
Sophie laughed, playfully swatting her friend's hand away from the basket.
