Strangely, after that dinner, Connor’s behaviour turned more upbeat. He cracked more jokes, sent her texts during the day, suggested they go out more often. But Julia didn’t feel the sincerity in those actions, she felt as if Connor was overcompensating for something.
One evening, she came home early and found him in the laundry room, sleeves rolled down, rubbing something into the fabric of his shirt. The sharp citrus scent of lemon clung to the air. When she stepped inside, he jumped. “Spilled food,” he said, flashing a quick smile. “Just trying to clean it.”