Tonight, we all sat at the same table for dinner. I watched in silence as Magnus served food onto Ingrid’s plate. She had a burn on her hand from the fire, and he was tending to her like she was the most fragile thing in the world.
Jealousy clawed at my insides. I was his wife, yet he treated me like a stranger.
"You’re so sweet, Magnus," I said sarcastically. "Taking such good care of her."
Neither of them seemed to notice my bitterness.
"Of course, she’s my f-friend," Magnus stuttered, avoiding my gaze.
"You know, Astrid, I'm very thankful to Magnus," Ingrid chimed in, smiling smugly. "He’s saved my life so many times."
I bit my lip, swallowing the rage rising in my throat.
"Really?" I said sweetly. "Aww, I’m so relieved you didn’t die."
As I cut into my steak, I imagined I was slicing them both apart instead.
That night, I went to bed without a word. Magnus lay beside me, but I turned my back to him, refusing to face him.
"Darling, why aren’t you facing me?" he murmured, but I stayed silent, pretending to be asleep.
I woke up in the middle of the night, my throat dry. I got out of bed and made my way to the kitchen for a drink.