YR 1. The Tide - Alexandra Clifford.

Walls of blue had never been so cold before. Even in the icy months of winter, when the lakes rose three feet higher than usual, and the ice spread amongst the dock; nothing compared to the frigid stare that my little girl pursued. Her hair like fire complimented the rising flush in her cheeks. Eyebrows narrow, jaw tight, as if she was practising telekinesis. I suppose she was trying to make sense of it all. The cottage pie that was slumped in front of her wasn’t steaming anymore. Eating was probably the last thing on her mind, and as for her homework…well, I suppose I would let that one slide.
        Running my tongue over my teeth I wondered what to do. I couldn’t lie to her anymore, even more so I couldn’t keep lying to myself. Sitting on the edge of the sofa, I studied her. What was she thinking? Did she hate me? A thin layer of sweat covered my palms as the silence felt longer than a decade. A sudden wave of ambivalence towards my husband swamped my body. I needed him; and I hated it. “Malcolm?” It was his turn. We had agreed beforehand that I would do all the talking; after all I didn’t want him to lose his temper. However, I was currently lost for words.
        As I turned towards my husband, my short hair hung just above my shoulders. The hairs brushed against my neck a few times before coming to a halt. I widened my eyes at him. Talk to her. Say something. Nothing but an eye role and a shitty attempt at a shrug escaped his body. He slouched back on the other end of the sofa. Resting his elbow on the arm, and his fingers just about holding his head up. His fingertips were hiding in those auburn curls I once use to adore; now dishevelled on his head. The same applied with his facial hair, there was a tremendous lack of care. The circles underneath his eyes were like dark pillows. He glowered back at me. I couldn’t help but notice his eyes, the one’s that once oozed passion every time he looked at me, now vacant. I can still recall the first time I saw those eyes, the day, the date. It was the first time Seabrooke had ever felt like home to me.