He picked up the mug of green tea and walked up the stairs. Her door was open, and he paused just outside.
“Hey, sweetheart. I’m home.”
Jenny looked up at him, relieved that he was back. For about an hour after she'd left Chris downstairs, looking shocked, she’d berated herself for telling him as soon as she did. Finally, she’d called Emma in a panic, sure that Chris was going to run. Hell, she’d run, if she had any choice in the matter whatsoever.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Can I come in?”
“Yes.”
He approached the bed slowly, then set the tea on the bedside table before stepping back. Jenny gasped and grabbed his hand.
“Chris? What happened?”
“Oh, baby.” He swallowed hard. “I – I went over to Jim’s and I beat the hell out of his punching bag.”
“You did? Why?”
“Bec
