Cradling her arm, she picked her way across the prairie - floor over to Thomas.
Thomas locked glances intricately with her. His orbs were glittering with flecks of honey gold.
"I should go speak with Adele," said Louisa, "it was nice seeing you though."
"You were leaving," Thomas hissed. "When were you going to tell me about it?"
Louisa looked intensely at him. His eyes glowered with hurt and disappointment. He reminded her of a groom whose bride had left him stranded on the altar. "I thought we were so much more than that," he said, "but I get that it's all because of me— you, leaving, is all because of me."
"Maybe if you explain better what you mean," Louisa said. "What are we so much more of? Who told you I was going to leave?"
"You know who did. I caught her parading the back of the house," Thomas said, "and we talked."