I tell Ethan about the trip like it’s nothing.
Like I’m not already bracing myself for the way his jaw tightens when he’s trying not to react.
“It’s two days,” I say, standing by the kitchen counter, scrolling through emails. “Mara needs me. Outside gig. Out of town.”
He doesn’t answer immediately. Just nods once. Too controlled. Too careful. That thing he does when he’s swallowing something sharp.
“Okay,” he says eventually. “Do what you need to do.”
There’s a pause. Thick. Unfinished.
I wait for him to say something else. To ask questions he’s pretending not to have. To remind me I’m married. To tell me to be careful. To tell me he doesn’t like it.
But he doesn’t.
And for some reason, that annoys me more than if he had.
I leave early the next morning. Miami still half asleep, th
