Chapter 3 - THE HUSBAND WHO CAME HOME SMILING
Daniel arrived home at eleven the following morning.
He carried flowers.
White roses.
My favorite.
Or what he believed were my favorite.
They were actually my mother's.
I'd told him that a dozen times.
He stepped into the kitchen.
“Sarah.”
I didn't look up.
“Daniel.”
He placed the flowers on the counter.
“Can we talk?”
I closed my laptop.
“About what?”
He sighed.
“Last night.”
I nodded.
“Go ahead.”
He sat across from me.
“Rebecca and I were discussing business.”
I stared.
“Business?”
“Yes.”
“At our anniversary restaurant?”
He swallowed.
“It was convenient.”
I nodded slowly.
“And holding hands?”
He looked down.
“She was upset.”
“About what?”
He hesitated.
“Personal things.”
I smiled.
“Of course.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“Sarah, you're making this bigger than it is.”
I looked at him.
For twelve years, I'd believed that sentence.
Now I heard it differently.
Not reassurance.
Dismissal.
I stood.
“I want a divorce.”
Daniel laughed.
Then stopped when he saw my face.
“Sarah.”
I picked up my coffee.
“I'm serious.”
His expression hardened.
“You'll regret this.”
I looked at him.
“Maybe.”
May you like
Then smiled.
“But not as much as I regret believing you.”
