THE EMAIL I SENT BEFORE DESSERT

on this floor, Clara. You know that. Don’t give her the satisfaction.”

He said it the way you close a drawer. Quick. Final. Already moving on.

I nodded.

But here’s the thing – he never asked a single follow-up question. Not “what time?” Not “did she say who?” Not even “that’s strange.” Just a clean dismissal, delivered like he’d rehearsed it on the drive continue reading …