Marie's POV
Marie stood in the kitchen, stirring a pot of simmering sauce while glancing out the window. She could see Julien's car pull into the driveway, and a wave of anticipation washed over her. She had been looking forward to this dinner all week. Julien was a wonderful young man, and Marie could see how much he cared for Valerie.
But there was something about Valerie lately that had her concerned. Marie had noticed the shift in her daughter's demeanor—how she seemed distracted, her laughter a bit forced. It was as if Valerie was carrying a weight she couldn't quite articulate, and Marie desperately wanted to help her shoulder it.
As the front door opened and the sound of familiar voices filled the house, Marie wiped her hands on a dish towel and turned to greet them. "Welcome home, you two!" she called out, her voice light and welcoming.
Valerie stepped into the entryway first, her smile bright but her eyes betraying a flicker of something deeper—an uncertainty that made Marie's heart ache. "Hi, Mom!" Valerie said, her voice cheerful but slightly strained.
Marie's instinct kicked in; she could sense the conflict within her daughter. "You look lovely, sweetheart," she said, stepping forward to embrace Valerie. The hug felt slightly off—tight, as if Valerie was holding back.
"Thanks," Valerie replied, pulling away quickly. Marie tried to hide her concern, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was troubling her.
Julien followed closely behind, his demeanor warm and friendly, but even he seemed a bit on edge. "Hey, Mrs. Lewis! Thanks for having us over!" he said, his usual charm on display.
"Of course, Julien! I'm glad you could make it," Marie replied, forcing a smile as she watched the two of them interact. They looked good together, but as she observed them, she couldn't help but notice the subtle tension hanging in the air. It was almost palpable, and she wished she could reach out and bridge the gap that had formed between them.
"Dinner is almost ready," Marie said, steering the conversation back to the positive. "I made your favorite spaghetti."
"Yum! Can't wait," Valerie said, forcing enthusiasm that didn't quite reach her eyes. Marie felt a pang of concern as she glanced at her daughter, whose gaze seemed to wander toward the hallway, lost in thought.
As they settled at the dining table, Marie noticed the way Valerie fidgeted with her fork, her mind clearly elsewhere. Julien was talking about his week, and though he was trying to engage her, Marie could see that Valerie was struggling to keep up. She stole a glance at her daughter, wishing she could decipher what was going on beneath the surface.
During dinner, as laughter and conversation flowed around the table, Marie felt the weight of Valerie's silence grow heavier. She wanted to ask if everything was alright, but she also didn't want to put her daughter on the spot. She had learned from experience that sometimes the best thing to do was let them come to you when they were ready.
But then, Marie caught the flicker of worry in Julien's eyes as he glanced at Valerie. He was clearly aware of her distance, and that only deepened her concern. She needed to have a conversation with Valerie later, but for now, she hoped that a warm meal and the comfort of home would draw her daughter back from wherever she had drifted.
As dessert was served and the conversation turned lighter, Marie caught Valerie's eye, trying to convey her support and love through a simple glance. Valerie met her gaze for a brief moment, and in that fleeting second, Marie felt a rush of understanding pass between them.
Something is going on, and we'll figure it out together, Marie thought resolutely. She just hoped that Valerie would trust her enough to open up when the time was right. For now, all she could do was be there for her—ready to listen, ready to support, and ready to help her navigate whatever storm was brewing in her heart.
