Her expression changed fast. “I’m Claire,” she said slowly. “He told me you were separated.”
“We weren’t.”
Daniel stepped in too quickly. “Can we not do this here?”
“You left me on bed rest and stayed gone through a high-risk delivery and three months in the NICU,” I said. “I think here is fine.”
Claire took one step away from him.
He lowered his voice. “This isn’t the place.”
“No,” I said. “The hospital would have been the place. The NICU would have been the place. My living room while I was signing insurance forms alone would have been the place.”
Claire took one step away from him.
“Daniel,” she said carefully, “you told me there wasn’t really a marriage anymore.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s complicated.”
“You lost the right to a quiet conversation when you answered a photo of your premature daughters with one word.”
