"You could never resist my omelettes." I tell him while beating the eggs in my favourite blue bowl.

He stares at me for a moment and sighs. The bowl clinks everytime the fork hits its walls.

"Omelettes?" I ask him.

"You know I can't eat it." He replies.

"Fine, I'll have them alone." I start chopping onions. Silence has always been unbearable for me. "So, how's life now?"

"What life?" He shrugs and gives me his characteristic smirk.

I exhale a long, heavy breath, which I hadn't realised I had been holding.

"Okay, how has it been, you know, after...." I can't really find the words, "...after leaving me." I mutter in a single breath.

"Oh." He says.

Yeah, oh indeed.

We fall silent again. I've chopped the onions smaller than I had intended to.

"Ugh! Not again." I mumble, more to myself than him.

"What's wrong?" His brows shoot...