The mirror reflected the grim image of Ana pulling at her face, turning side to side, blankly.
Scott glanced at her, looking up from his files.
"How much disposable income do we have for the year?"
"Including your mother's inheritance?"
"No."
"Credit cards?"
"Sure."
"About 100,000 in cash, 200,000 on the cards, and about 2 million in assets, including the house."
He nodded, before looking back down. He frowned. "You just know that off the top of your head?"
"I was always good with numbers," she murmured absently.
Scott sighed. "There's a ball coming to the Rialto."
"Oh? That's nice. Annika should go with her friends. Maybe it would be fun."
He sighed again. "I was thinking more along the lines of us going. Together."
She shrugged. He closed his eyes. "I see the issue. The answer is yes."
She looked at him, making him open his eyes and meet her gaze. Her empty gaze.
"It is?"
"Yes," he closed his eyes. "The answer is yes. So get dressed."
• • •
Morgana stole a breath, as they were seated at a table. She closed her eyes, her hand in his eyes, as he walked them toward their table.
"This isn't so bad is it," he murmured, pulling the chair out for her. She sat down, smiling.
He smiled back, a quiet dissonance between them growing.
Scott looked over his menu briefly before looking above it at Ana. She used to be so excited for these rare outings. She'd beg for them.
Let's just go out. Please.
But he was busy, and he knew that the more he neglected her, the more attached she became when he showed her attention. So he let her gather dust, in the corner of their home.
Her eyes scanned the menu once. Then she stopped reading. Had she picked something?
He looked back at his own menu, clearing his throat. "Did you decide what you want to drink?"
She glanced up. "Some liquor."
"Liquor? Do they even..." he sighed. "What about wine? Since it's a romantic evening?"
She nodded. "Sure. Just get the whole bottle."
He licked his lips. "The place is nice isn't it?"
Ana purses her lips, setting her menu down. "It's beautiful."
Scott put his own menu down. "How was your week?"
"Fine."
Scott sighed in exasperation, her short answers irritating him.
She stared past him, as the waiter came back to the table. Scott waited for her to speak up, but as her silence lingered, he spoke instead.
"Champagne. Leave the bottle."
She sat there, I. Silence, her posture perfect, her makeup flawless, not a hair out of place, a perfectly soft smile on her face.
Almost like a doll.
He looked away. "I'm trying here, Ana," he said lowly.
She just smiled. "Trying to what?"
Scott sighed, glancing down at his watch. How much longer would this take? The sooner she was back to normal the sooner he could get back in surgery.
"Hey..." she whispered, as the waiter set the bottle of champagne at the table, opening it.
He looked up.
"You don't have to stay. I know you have better things to be doing right now." She smiled. "I know I'm standing in your way."
He drummed his fingers anxiously, as she poured herself a glass, stealing a deep breath, her posture releasing just the slightest bit.
"Why would you say that," he clenched his jaw.
She sipped the wine silently, refilling her glass. He watched her. A glass. Two. Three. Four.
"Slow down, Ana."
"Oh nevermind me," she waved her hand, pouring herself another glass. "Did something big happen? Let me guess? You're moving us to...Europe? Or no. You're moving to Europe."
He opened his mouth, as the waiter stopped by the table once more.
"I'll have the steak medium well. What about you, Ana."
She shrugs, looking at the young man. "What do you think I should get? What do you recommend?"
The waiter blushed. "The...the salmon is good ma'am. It also pairs well with your champagne."
"I'll have that then, dear. Thank you."
The waiter took the menus, his ears red. She chuckled to herself, before looking back at Scott who just blinked.
"What were you saying?" She asked, her eyes following the young man.
He narrowed his eyes. "I was saying...the occasion is, that...there is no occasion. It's just a date night."
She nodded. "I see. You won't tell me here then. Must be bad."
"No it's-it's just dinner, Ana. Don't act like I never take you anywhere."
Morgana sipped her champagne. "Sorry."
He frowned, trying to think. Make this positive. Make this good. Make her happy. Make her love you.
"Don't apologize." He said simply, with a sigh.
