We sat opposite Paul's mother. It was the first time I had seen her in person. She was a tiny handsome woman in her fifties. She kept staring out of the window with a vacant expression on her face.
"How are you two?" she asked, smiling slightly.
"We're doing fine, aunty," I said. "Busy with work as usual."
Paul said nothing. There had been tension between us of late. My nights were split between Marc's and my family home. In the past week, I spent three nights at our apartment, giving the excuse of editing in the office for the rest of the nights.
She nodded. Paul looked slightly worried at her muteness. "Are you okay, ma?" he asked softly, reaching out for her hand. His mother nodded again woodenly.
"As long as you are happy," she said in a hollow tone.
All of a sudden tears started to roll down her aged powdered cheek.