Marianne returned to the dining room with a warm smile and a tray in hand. The aroma of freshly baked garlic bread mingled with the lingering scent of the soup, filling the space with a comforting familiarity. She placed the basket on the table and straightened, brushing her hands on her apron.
"So," she asked, a hopeful glint in her eyes, "did your beau apologise?"
Melody blinked, startled by the question. Then, shaking her head slowly, she gave her mother a confused look, her hands clenched under the table. "That was Collins..."
Marianne paused mid-motion, frowning. "Collins? Who is that? I thought I saw Adam's name flashing on the screen."
Melody hesitated for a fraction of a second before shaking her head. " It was. Collins. Mr Collins. Melanie's husband."
