Milly’s eyes squinted across their bed in Salt Lake. “Well, you asked, Damien! Of course I notice men looking at me.”
“How do you look at them?”
“You said, ‘I’m the one.’” Milly frowned. “I’m your wife. That means something to me. Doesn’t it to you?”
“What?” he screamed. “Of course!”
“While we got ready for the party tonight, you literally said you wanted to ‘show me off.’ Then you get like this!”
He scowled. “How many?”
She plucked off her earrings. “I lost count!”
“Name one!”
“I don’t see why I would do that.” She kicked her heels across the floor.
“They only look at you”—Damien threw his beer—“'cause of me!” He stormed off.
Believing that was some sort of triumph? It was only pain.