Calmly Head Back Home
When David and Lisa finally walked in, they were lost in a conversation about spreadsheets and deadlines, exhaustion etched on their faces as work always seemed to take priority. “Dinner’s on the table,” I called from the kitchen, but my words barely registered. They were caught up in their busy whirlwind, completely unaware of the steady presence—the backbone of their daily routine—standing right before them. Still, I kept my plans to myself, knowing the moment for change was fast approaching.
Calmly Head Back Home
Unnoticeable at First Look
They came in mid-sentence, discussing a delayed report and a broken printer, shoes still on and coats half-off as they bypassed me and headed straight to the living room. I stood there, dish towel in hand, hoping for even a glance, but got nothing—just more chatter about meetings and project deadlines. I wasn’t upset—at least not on the surface. Quietly, I folded the towel and returned to the kitchen, wondering if I’d become like part of the furniture: always there, always useful, but completely invisible.
Unnoticeable At First Look
