Irritation becomes affront. It’s not merely how she’s talking to me, it’s that she’s doing it in the presence of someone else. I’ve been reasonable, while she?
One of us has to be in control here. “I think you should calm down, and come home.”
“I told you to leave.” Her voice drops cold and quiet. “I’m not even clear if I want to see you again.But I’ll sure as hell be getting clearer if you’re still here in twenty seconds.”
I bite down on the three retorts that spring to mind, tightening my jaw while I compose myself again. “Vicky—”
“Sixteen.”
“What?”
“Fifteen.”
“I’ll get your coat,” Carol offers helpfully.
“Twelve.”
I regard my fiancée. The determined line of her jaw. The slight flaring of her nostrils. Her steady gaze, unflinching and unwavering. Stubbornness, personified.
She’ll dig her heels in so damn hard it’ll take me two weeks to get back to this point. Two weeks I don’t have.
“Five.”
I accept my coat from Carol, turn for the door, and don’t look back.
“Three. Two.”
The door closes as she says one.
Six
Vicky
Iwait for the door to close and a few seconds more for him to walk away, then I turn my anger on Carol.
“Did you tell him about the job?”
“Yes.” She looks abashed.
It’s my job, not his. It’s my new life, away from him. It makes no sense that I care if he knows, but… I do. “Did you tell him who it was with?”
“No. I… told him it wasn’t my place to say.”
I straighten my robe in relief, my shoulders losing a touch of tension. “Okay.”
There’s a heavy pause, then she hisses in a breath. “Um… actually I think I did let it slip.”
Damn. Or… whatever. I can’t decide which I should go with. I suppose it doesn’t really matter, but that doesn’t stop it bothering me. It’smyjob, damn it.
Carol hunches, looking miserable. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“It’s just… he’s…” She doesn’t meet my eyes.
“What?”
“Well, he’s…”
