She tries to thank him for paying, but her mouth is stuck in that smile, her face like a rictus she can't shake. She can't get her jaw to work, to say the words in her head, and for the first time all week, that feels wrong. Her heart beats a little faster, and she fights for control of her mind, of her very body.

All she manages is a a jerky nod of her head, her smile straining.

"How kind." The hollow tone that has haunted her voice all week seems to have faded, if just slightly. Mechanically, if a little shaky, she places her hands on the table to push herself up from her seat so they can leave the restaurant. The throbbing in her head is back, but with it comes a certain clarity. She exhales slowly, eyes focusing on him, losing that glazed look they've been holding. "I would like to go back to the house now." The fact that she doesn't call it my home or mention needing to get back home to my husband is already a clue that her mind is being unchained.