She flinched once, just at the shoulders, barely visible. But it was more than enough.
I leaned forward slightly, my voice dropping quiet enough that everyone at that table had to lean in slightly to hear the rest of it.
“You didn’t fall in love with my husband, Rachel. You picked him out the way you’d pick a melon at the grocery store. You squeezed him a little, checked the price tag carefully, and then carried him straight to the register.”
Tyler’s head turned slowly toward her. “Rachel?”
She tried to recover quickly, but not quite quickly enough. “I just heard things around the office, Tyler. Don’t be ridiculous about this.”
Margaret reached into her tote bag and slid a single folder calmly across the table.
“Then perhaps you could explain this instead,” she said.
Rachel went very still. Tyler reached for the folder before she could stop him and opened it slowly.
