“Not quite.”
He looks up at me with narrowed eyes. “What does that mean? It’s a yes or no question, Gianna.”
“No, then.” I pick at my nail polish, internally chastising myself for ruining the manicure I spent all last night perfecting.
“When and where was the last time you saw him?”
“Sunday. At family lunch.”
David is quiet so long that I actually look up to make sure he’s still here.
The look he gives me is so loaded with I don’t even know what that it throws me off kilter for a moment. “He still comes to your family lunch?”
“What! No. Well, not usually. It’s the first time I’d seen him since I left our house six months ago.” We had already covered Daniel’s infidelity, and I guess due to David’s line of work, he didn’t seem surprised in the least.
“And you didn’t think to tell him then about your appointment today?” David’s voice is low and dripping with accusation.
“I don’t know what you’re implying, but the reason I didn’t tell him was because we had an audience and I didn’t want to send my mother to an early grave.”Half a lie.
“Your mother doesn’t want you to divorce?”
“She’s Italian.” I pin him with a pointed glare. “Divorce is worse than death.”
My joke falls flat.
“How is Daniel going to react when he gets served with papers?”
“How do most people react?” I shrug.Times that by one hundred, then set it on fire.
Then there’sthe uncomfortable journey David makes into more personal territory, asking questions I wouldn’t think even make a difference to building a divorce case. Surprisingly, it’s these questions he lingers on the most.
“How old were you and Daniel when you first got together?”
“Did you like Daniel for long before you agreed to go out with him?”
“How long did you date before you got married?”
“Did your family accept him straight away?”
I answer his questions with clipped responses, which doesn’t seem to go down well. He only pushes further, until he asks me one question that sends me over the edge.
“Was Daniel your first love?”
He doesn’t look up from his notes, actually he’s barely looked at me at all throughout his questioning, his pen hovering over his pad as he waits for me to respond.
“Is this really relevant?” I snip, not enjoying the trip down memory lane he’s taken me on this afternoon. He’s making me think about things I haven’t allowed myself to think about inyears.Ten, to be exact. I understand now how he’s so good at his job; he leaves no dusty, crumbling, moss-covered stone unturned.
“It’s very relevant. Please answer the question.”
I sigh, but answer through clenched teeth. “No. He wasn’t.”
David’s pen freezes in midair, the scratch of his writing noticeably absent in the now silent office.
“Who has that honour?” The way he says it, still avoiding my gaze, makes it sound like it wasn’t an honour at all. The fucking nerve on this guy.
“None of your business. It has absolutely nothing to do with my marriage to Daniel.”
Before he can object, I take it upon myself to shut down that line of questioning for good after finally having enough. I don’t talk about that time in my life. Ever.
