The worst moment of your life can happen under fluorescent lights while someone nearby buys pretzels.
“You do not get to explain this to me only because I found out,” I said.
“You don’t get to stand here with your mistress and her pregnancy while she talks about divorce papers and act like there is a version of this that hurts less depending on how you phrase it.”
Emily flinched at the word mistress.
Daniel looked wrecked.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice low and shaking. “I never meant for you to find out like this.”
That almost made me slap him.
“As opposed to what?” I asked.
“Over breakfast tomorrow? After dessert? In a neat little envelope, once you’d squeezed one more anniversary out of my ignorance?”
He opened his mouth and closed it.
Emily looked irritated now, which was almost funny. As if my grief were complicating her evening.
