Chapter 32

Thomas stood by his desk long after the door had swung shut, watching the soft click of the handle as his wife slipped away in a hurry. Her retreating figure seemed to vibrate with anxiety—did she fear him? Or was it more like nervousness, as though she waited for him to lash out at any moment? Thomas rubbed his temples, an involuntary gesture that betrayed his own unease. He hated that he frightened her. He hated that he had snapped. “I snapped, huh?” he muttered under his breath, the words tasting bitter against his tongue. That was definitely not good.

He glanced at the untouched meal on the table, where warm steam curled above the neatly plated food his wife had prepared. But he couldn’t bring himself to eat—not yet. Instead, he reached for his phone, the screen lighting up the anxious crease between his brows. He tapped out a message to her, each keystroke deliberate.

To: Cassandra Did I scare you?

He hit send and set the phone down, fully expecting silence in