Something gnaws at her. He knows. He knows you’re not sure, you don’t believe in him

Her coffee tastes strange.

Bina sniffs, then heaves. She makes it to the bathroom just in time.

“Breakfast?” Tzvi calls. She hears the door thump shut, a tray clatter. The smell of eggs starts to waft in.

“Justaminute,” she garbles, breathing hard.

Had she still suffered from morning sickness so late in the pregnancy with the others? She doesn’t think so, but then again, she doesn’t really remember. Besides, life had been so different back then. She’d still been working at the agency, griping about insane hours and terrible pay. What had she done, taken off a few sick days? Pushed herself through it?

Working from home — and working for herself — is a different planet entirely. Which is why they can take a random two-day hotel vacation, just the two of them, while the kids stay with her mother.

Tzvi has grand plans, he’d mentioned the lake and a picnic, but she’s glad for the excuse to stay in the hotel. She has two looming deadlines and can’t afford to take the whole day off. She’ll lie down for a while, work for an hour or two, and maybe they’d go to the park nearby if she felt better later in the day.

Bina washes her face, empties half of the soap from the mini bottle onto her hands, waits for the nausea to finally subside.

“Sorry,” she says emerging from the bathroom. “Oh— ” She stops short. Tzvi is crouching on the floor just in front of her, squinting into the lens of his Canon EOS RP. He’s focusing so intently, she’s not sure he even heard her.

“You’re taking a picture of… the suitcases?” Bina edges around him. “The breakfast tray?” She looks at him quizzically.

“Mm,” Tzvi says. He rocks back on his heels, presses something, and frowns at the screen. “It’s not working. It’s… the lighting, maybe?” He tugs at the floor-to-ceiling drapery. Light pierces the windows, catching Bina right in the eye.

The breakfast tray is now cast half in shadow, half in dazzling white light. Tzvi mutters something, fiddles with the lens, shifts the tray over.

There’s a series of rapid clicks, then Tzvi hoists the camera off his shoulder and beams up at her. “Got it! Sorry about that. Let’s eat.”

She nibbles at a plain bagel, watching from a safe distance as Tzvi demolishes the rest of the breakfast.