When we reached the apartment, I kicked off my heels by the door and padded silently to the kitchen, desperate for water and distance. My hands trembled slightly as I filled a glass from the tap,
Caleb's footsteps were unsteady behind me. I could feel him hovering in the doorway.
"You're angry," he said finally.
I took a long sip of water before turning to face him, schooling my features into neutrality. "I'm not angry."
"Liar." He moved into the kitchen, bracing himself against the counter opposite me. "You haven't said a word since we left Lang's."
"What is there to say? You got drunk and talked about your girlfriend in front of people who think I'm your wife. It was awkward. We moved on."
He winced. "I didn't mean to—"
"It doesn't matter what you meant to do." I set my glass down
