Prentice saw it immediately and he wanted to walk across the pitch and do bodily damage.
He didn’t.
Even though she’d retreated, still she agreed quietly, “Okay.”
And she stood by his side in the curve of his arm, when she wasn’t off doing something for Sally or chatting with one of the other Mums, the rest of the match.
But she did most of this with her fists clenched.
When they went back to the house, she got the kids sorted and excused herself to her rooms, promising Sally she’d be back so they could make dinner together.
Prentice gave her some time then he followed her.
He stopped halfway up the second flight of steps.
The door to her rooms was open, the scent of lavender drifting out, Elle had changed into yoga gear and was in a yoga pose. She fluidly moved out of the position she was in to another one and, with fascination, he watched her hold it, every inch of her body in her control, legs firm and strong, arms steady. Then she leaned forward and went into a pose where she was on one straight leg, her body balanced perfectly, her stance firm, she made it look effortless and graceful.
It was serene.
It was controlled.
It was beautiful.
It was extraordinary.
Although all of this was delightful, what it wasn’t was Elle.
Silently, he turned and walked down the stairs.
She rejoined them in time to work with Jason on his guitar and for Sally to help her with dinner. She ate with them. She tidied the kitchen.
Then she disappeared.
Prentice gave her some time then he followed.
His feet in socks making no noise on the stairs, he stopped yet again halfway up the second flight.
He saw Elle through the door. She was curled into the chair, knees bent, feet up on its edge. The lavender scent was again permeating the air. Her head was bowed and he could see she was writing in one of her journals.
Peaceful.
Quiet.
Withdrawn.
Not Elle.
Again, he silently made his way back down the stairs.
She rejoined them again to get Sally to bed, walking her up the stairs, hand in hand. She stayed upstairs to read Sally a bedtime story.
“Do me a favor, mate, go to your room,” Prentice said to Jason.
“But Dad –”
Prentice looked at his son. Jason knew that look. He grabbed his guitar, said his goodnight and went up to his room.
Prentice watched his son until he was out of sight.