The door slammed and woke me up, but I just rolled over and ignored it.
It made me think of how I used to wait up like a simp, no matter how late she came home.
Even if I dozed off on the couch, I'd turn on the TV to stay awake.
Iris liked to drink a warm glass of milk before bed, which I always had ready.
But sometimes, if she was in a bad mood, she'd pour the milk down the sink, complaining, "Why drink this now? How will I sleep after all that milk?"
And all I could do was apologize and try to make her smile.
Looking back, I must have seemed pretty pathetic.
No wonder she used to blow up at me. But now, I was done playing that game.
Iris didn't head straight to bed after taking off her coat. She just stood by the bed, watching me.
She looked like she wanted to say something. I wasn't in the mood to talk.
Iris finally spoke, "Albert, sorry about today.
Gavin was drunk, and no one else could pick him up, so I..."
Her words broke the silence, tinged with guilt. But it just annoyed me.
"Yeah, got it. Let's sleep," I said.
My indifferent response seemed to catch Iris off guard. She stopped talking.
3
Next morning, I woke up to find Iris had made breakfast and was waiting for me.