Daniel took a step toward me. “Mercy, please. Let me explain.”
“No.”
“Please.”
I held up a hand. He stopped.
People were moving around us, barely noticing. Airport life is rude that way.
The worst moment of your life can happen under fluorescent lights while someone nearby buys pretzels.
“You do not get to explain this to me only because I found out,” I said.
“You don’t get to stand here with your mistress and her pregnancy while she talks about divorce papers and act like there is a version of this that hurts less depending on how you phrase it.”
Emily flinched at the word mistress.
Daniel looked wrecked.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice low and shaking. “I never meant for you to find out like this.”
That almost made me slap him.
“As opposed to what?” I asked.
