He placed her in her chair at the dining table and served her a small bowl of oatmeal with fresh fruit and a dollop of cream on top. She lowered her head and ate slowly, trying to avoid his gaze from across the table.
"You should stay at home until your wounds heal," he said over his newspaper.
"But I already have plans," she said. "I'm supposed to meet a friend."
"Well, cancel it," he said. "Or tell her that she can meet you here."
She bit the inside of her mouth to keep from shouting at him. After her ordeal with Iris, her patience had worn thin. Sean could play attentive husband all he wanted, but she was furious at his efforts to control her. Didn't he have any shame at all?
"Fine," she snapped.
Another silence filled the dining room. Besides the clink of his cup against the saucer and the rustle of his newspaper, the room was quiet. She sat uncomfortably at her seat, wondering if she could excuse herself.
