anger, too.
He had spent months telling me that I was suspicious, emotional, and difficult. Perhaps he imagined that if the truth ever emerged, I would prove every accusation correct.
Instead, I stood up and walked into the kitchen.
I poured myself a glass of water.
My hands were shaking, but I didn’t want to give the moment more power than it already had.
Daniel followed me.
“Claire?”
I drank some water.
“I need you to leave me alone for tonight.”
“Please. We need to talk about this.”
“We have
