Читать книгу House of Glass - Sophie Littlefield - Страница 15

Chapter Eight

“Jen. Jen.”

Ted was shaking her, his hand on her shoulder. Jen shuddered, trying to banish the nightmare, and then she remembered where she was.

The basement was lit by the single overhead bulb, casting its small, gloomy pool of light down on the four of them. The kids were fast asleep, Livvy burrowed so far under her quilt that only her hair was visible, Teddy tangled up in his covers. Ted was on his knees at the foot of the love seat, staring up at her. Jen blinked and put her hand over her mouth.

“You were having a nightmare,” he said. “You were thrashing around. Are you all right?”

The last bits of the dream dissolved and were replaced with guilt. Absurd though it was, Jen felt like she’d been caught in a moment of betrayal, walking in on the scene between her husband and his lover.

“I’m fine,” she said shortly.

“I couldn’t sleep. I thought I might try to eat again. I don’t think I’ve had a real meal since breakfast yesterday. You want something? We probably ought to.”

Jen didn’t answer, but she watched Ted open the crackers, peel the wax off a cheese round, then another. He split the cheese into four squishy quadrants and stacked each on a cracker, brushing the crumbs into a little pile in the center of the plate. When he picked up a cracker and handed it to her, Jen was surprised that her stomach rumbled in response, and she was able to take a bite.