Perhaps realizing the harshness of his tone, he softened it, though not by much. “The child is already asleep. What if you woke him?”
Before she could respond, the bathroom door creaked open.
Out stepped Norella, clad in a white bathrobe, her hair still damp, her face flushed from the warmth of the shower.
Without a second thought, Raiden grabbed a coat from the sofa and draped it over her shoulders.
“Norella’s power went out. I brought her over. You don’t mind, do you?”
Astrella felt the weight of his words, cold and dismissive. He wasn’t asking for permission; he was claiming his ground and asserting himself as the one in control.
He didn’t need her approval. He never had.
Their son, Reaghan, emerged from his room and the Ultraman toy was clutched tightly in his chubby fingers. His small hands rubbed at his eyes with an air of impatience.
“Dad, Aunt Norella, what are you doing here? I’m still waiting for you to tell me a story.”
Without even sparing a glance at Astrella, he turned and shuffled back toward his room.
Through the narrow crack in the door, his voice floated back, whiny and demanding. “Hurry up!”