“You said you wanted excitement,” she said. “I figured tonight was a good time to stop pretending everything was fine.”
Daniel scoffed, stepping out of his wet shoes. “Oh, come on. You’re being dramatic.”
“No,” she said. “I think I’ve been underreacting for years.”
That irritated him. She saw it immediately. Daniel disliked being denied his preferred version of reality.
He walked past the boxes into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, as if food could prove his authority. “I went to dinner, Emily. I didn’t commit murder.”
“With a woman you’ve been sleeping with.”
The refrigerator door shut harder than necessary.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Emily reached for a folder and slid a printed statement across the coffee table. “Hotel charges. Wine bars. Jewelry. Weekend reservations during fake conferences. I know more than you think.”
Daniel stared at the paper for two seconds too long. Then he laughed, but the laugh was thinner than the one he had brought home.
