I held his gaze.
“Yes.”
Eleanor inhaled sharply.
Daniel stepped back as if the word itself offended him.
In all our years together, I had softened everything.
I had said, “I forgot.”
“I misunderstood.”
“I didn’t want to upset you.”
Never: I lied.
But I had.
And saying it plainly felt cleaner than pretending otherwise.
Daniel shook his head slowly.
“This is insane.”
“What happened last night was insane.”
His eyes moved toward my scalp and then away.
“Stop acting like I attacked you.”
“I woke up while you were shaving my head.”
“You were drunk.”
“I had two glasses of champagne over four hours.”
“You were acting reckless.”
“I was celebrating a promotion.”
“With men.”
“With coworkers.”
Eleanor stepped between us.
“This isn’t helpful.”
“No,” I said. “It’s extremely helpful.”
Her expression hardened.
I had known Eleanor for nearly thirteen years.
She had always been controlled.
