Avoidance Stories

My stomach is literally in knots as they walk through the door. My wife Jennifer and our two children, back from after-school activities, arms loaded with takeout food. I give Jennifer a brief hug and she pecks me on the cheek, not the lips. I can smell the body wash, still somewhat fresh, not normal for this time of day, of that I’m certain. Small talk about how our days were. Boring, she says. Something about faux drama...