Emily closed the folder in her lap. “Paperwork.”
“At midnight?”
David leaned back in the armchair beside the fireplace. “Funny. That was our thought about your dinner date.”
Daniel ignored him. His eyes fixed on Emily, narrowing as though she were a puzzle assembled incorrectly. “What are you doing?”
For the first time in years, Emily saw uncertainty on her husband’s face. Not remorse. Not yet. Confusion. He was accustomed to her sadness, her disappointment, her attempts to reason, even her quiet anger. He was not accustomed to calm.
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