cold appraisal

I can’t understand it. Is there love there? Through those aggressive stares and that aloof, cold appraisal, is there any true affection, other than that of a slightly amused, condescending uncle? Any respect, or trust? She smiles and shrugs, conveying nonchalance, unaffected by his tantrums. Is it real? Surely they must affect her on some deeper level, surely in some part of her mind she flees to her room and slams the door, hiding as though from a rampaging father. Why is she there? In my mind, their entire union is a question mark.

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