Page 41 of Leon

"Is that the only thing?" she asked curiously. Picking up her glass of wine, she took a sip, eyes trained on his face. "You look tired."

"Thanks." His dry tone had her smiling.

"I would think that you are looking forward to spending time with your wife."

The anger threatened to overwhelm and had to be tamped down.

"That's just it right there. Spending time with her. Sneaking around and begging for scraps from my wife."

"Wasn't that what you signed up for?"

His hand was not quite steady as he lifted the glass to his lips. "I was crazy in love and would have done anything, say anything to make her mine."

"And now?"

"Now?" He shrugged restlessly. "Now, I'm not so sure we did the right thing."

She stared at him with narrowed eyes. "You're telling me you no longer love her?"

He smiled mirthlessly. "Oh, there's no chance of that changing and believe me, I've tried. I love her endlessly. The thought, the very idea of being without her makes me sick to my stomach. I wake up in cold sweat and start to reach for her only to discover she's not there." He put his glass down and shoved the plate away. "I keep having this recurring dream that things are ending and I don't know what the hell to do about it."

Lisa was silent for a moment, her fingers tracing circles on the rim of her wine glass. The soft glow of the dining room lamp threw shadows across the table, and the clink of cutlery against the china filled the space between them. She regarded him, reading the lines of anguish etched so deeply it seemed they had always belonged to him.

"Nightmares don't foretell the future," she said quietly. "They only show us what we're most afraid to lose."

He gave a hollow laugh, rubbing his brow as if trying to erase the worry. "I know. It's just... I never imagined loving someone could feel like this. Like you're holding onto something so precious and so fragile, you're terrified every second you'll drop it."

Lisa leaned forward, her voice gentle but unwavering. "You're not alone, you know. Everyone who's truly loved has stood on that edge. The question is whether you let the fear drive you apart or if you use it to fight for each other, every single day."

He looked up, eyes clouded but searching. "And what if fighting isn't enough? What if... what if love doesn't conquer all?"

She gave him a small, knowing smile. "Maybe it doesn't conquer every obstacle outright. Maybe sometimes it just gives you the strength to keep trying, to pick up the pieces and try again. That's what real love is. Not the absence of struggle, but the refusal to give in to it."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The storm of doubt in his chest slowed, just a little, and the silence felt less heavy, more like the hush before a dawn.

He picked up his glass again, but did not drink.

"Something else is bothering you," she observed quietly.

"Yes." He told her about the conversation with their dad.

A frown etched her brow as she stared at him. "Think he's telling the truth?"

"He has no reason to lie. So yes, I think he is."

"I knew there was something off about that man, the first time I saw him." She toyed with her baby potatoes and realized her appetite had also diminished. "Will you tell her?"

"I don't want to spoil the week we will be spending with each other." He put the glass down again, the restlessness inside him making him edgy. "I don't want to be the guy who turned her against her own father. She loves him."

"And you're her husband," his sister pointed out.

He gave a small, humorless laugh. "That's exactly why I feel stuck. I know what I owe her, but I also know what it would do to her. Sometimes it feels like love asks you to hold back as much as it asks you to fight."

Lisa's fingers drummed quietly on the table. "Maybe honesty's not about sides. Maybe it's about letting her see the truth and trusting her to decide what to do with it." She paused, searching his face. "Protecting someone isn't the same as deceiving them. You can't carry this alone."

He nodded, the weight of her words settling inside. For all his doubts, he trusted Lisa's clarity, the way she could cut to the heart of things with a few careful words. The room around them felt suspended, as if waiting.

"She's stronger than you think," Lisa added, softer now, almost as if she were speaking to herself. "Don't underestimate her, or what you both can survive together."

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