GIADA
I’m sitting on a bench at the foot of our bed organizing crystals and candles when he finally comes home. This is the fourth day he’s late. He’ll probably shower and lock himself in his office for a few hours.
“I’m sorry I missed dinner,” he says leaning on the dresser.
I don’t answer, knowing my silence affects him.
He sighs. “I was with Raquel.”
Well, look who brings him home. I bite my tongue. She will always be a sore subject for us.
“She told me what you did yesterday.” He moves closer, and I fiddle with the basket that’s holding everything. “I don’t think I could’ve done it.”
Did she tell him what she did? I haven’t had the chance, but he deserves to know.
I shrug. “It’s not a big deal.”
He moves the basket to the floor and sits on the bench.
“It’s a very big deal.
