They made it home. The trip had been excruciating, neither of them saying anything at all to one another, not a single word. It was as if they each understood the other’s position; I know there’s going to be shouting, and that doesn’t mix well with driving. As soon as she walked in the door, Bree slipped her heels off of her tired feet and sat down on the couch.
Trent hung his keys by the door and slumped into the chair next to her, his fingernails biting into the armrests. As Bree tried to decide how to phrase her first question, he said quietly, “I didn’t want to upset you.”
“I can respect that,” she said, keeping her tone even as well. “But don’t you think I have a right to know?”
“Normally, I would say of course you do,” he said, not quite looking at her. “But considering all that you’ve been through recently, I didn’t think it was worth the risk of upsetting you. You haven’t been yourself recently, Bree. Not that anyone can blame you.”
