Simmering Regret

THIRD PERSON

The clock read 7:10 PM, and Daphne stood in the kitchen, her hands trembling slightly as she diced vegetables. The aroma of roasted chicken filled the air, mixing with the faint scent of fresh herbs she had sprinkled over the potatoes. Dinner was nearly ready, and she wanted everything to be perfect. Tonight wasn’t just any night; it was an opportunity to fix things, to apologize for