“We should go, Natasha.” He smiles at her, suddenly making me feel sick, confusion written all over me. Natasha is instantly wary, like she thinks he is about to throw her out, and that tearful look she gets in her eye affects him because I spy that subtle jaw tension tell of his that he feels shitty.

“We could go for a drink and maybe talk somewhere else.” He looks right at her like I’m not even here, and I can’t ignore that adoring puppy dog look she has for him shining ...