He stands still for a second, phone in hand, breathing through his nose before he turns toward me.
“I have to go out.”
I keep my eyes on the counter. “Okay.”
His brows pull together. “Okay?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know.” He lets out a short laugh, but there’s nothing humorous behind it. “Maybe ask what happened.”
I fold the towel and set it beside the sink. “What happened?”
His mouth tightens. The irritation flashes across his face before he smooths it back into something more presentable.
“Work,” he says. “One of the accounts is going sideways. I need to handle it.”
“At night?”
His eyes sharpen.
I wish I could shove the question back into my mouth the second it leaves.
“Yes, at night,” he says, his voice dropping into that particular, calibrated calm that is somehow worse than shouting. “That’s generally how emergencies work, Skylar. They don’t check your schedule first.”
There it is.
That neat little cut. The kind he’s perfected over time, precise enough to draw blood without leaving a mark you can point to. Not deep enough to scream over. Enough to make you bleed quietly under your clothes while he straightens his collar and calls it a conversation.
He sighs and lets the silence sit for a moment. He crosses the room toward me, and the irritation drains from his face. Whether manufactured or real, I don’t know anymore.
That is the worst part. I genuinely cannot tell. He has worn this performance so long and so well that I’ve lost the ability to read him. He can look at me like I matter and I stand there searching his face for proof, coming up empty every time.
“Hey,” he says.
I don’t move.
He stops in front of me. His hand settles at my waist, thumb tracing a slow arc across my hip.
“You’ve been quiet these last few days.”
“I’m always quiet.”
“No.” His thumb stills. “You’re pretending to be quiet. There’s a difference.”
“I’m tired.”
“You’ve been tired for days.”
“I’m fine.”
“Fine.” His eyes sweep over my face. “We haven’t fucked in months, Sky.”
“Don’t start.”
“I’m not starting anything.”
He steps closer.
