I leaned against the bathroom door, lost in thought.

Zachary walked in, holding a bathrobe. "Darling, are you done?" He still had that gentle, smiling expression.

I was done bathing, but my mind was far from at ease. But what could I do? Confront him directly? Would that even matter? He could brush it off with any excuse.

"I’m done, but I just remembered something urgent that I need to handle." I hastily tied my bathrobe and glanced at the clock on ...