“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.”
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