The next evening, I sent our daughter to my mother’s house. I told her we were having a quiet dinner and I was not up for chasing a child around.
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My mother said, “You sound tired.”
“I am.”
“Do you want me to keep her overnight?”
I closed my eyes for a second. “Yes.”
That one word probably saved me.
Evan came home and looked around.
Then I set the table.
Candles. Nice plates. Fresh tea. The good napkins.
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Evan came home and looked around.
“What’s all this?” he asked.
“I wanted dinner to be nice.”
He smiled. “You seem in a good mood.”
“I am.”
I noticed. I noticed everything now.
That was my first lie to his face, and it felt strangely easy.
Clara arrived at seven carrying a cake and wearing a smile that made me want to slam the door.
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“Wow,” she said. “This looks beautiful.”
