Mallory gulped as she walked into the dinning room, ever since she moved into the Grayson Manor, each mealtime was akin to a cold war. If one faction misspoke, it would cause tensions to heighten the tensions and further deepen the bad blood.
What was worse, with Zachiel recuperating, everyone at the table were given free reign to act as they pleased, which fuelled her anxiety.
"Come on," Matthew's voice drew her out of her thoughts, she felt a tight squeeze and averted her eyes to their hands which had been intertwined.
When did that happen? And why didn't her body react to it?
Retracting her grip, she forced a polite response, "We aren't married yet, there's no need to get physical."
Matthew rolled his eyes, "Whatever floats your boat, ginger." he said, then led her to the table, which had only Laura, sitting at it.
On seeing the couple she smiled, "How are you both doing?"
