“And he left this house desiring only to communicate with you.”
“I didn’t request his attention, Brooke. I answered his questions.”
“That is precisely what makes it so agonizing!” she yelled, her voice cracking.
I frowned, confused. “How?”
“Because you didn’t even care! You didn’t grovel! You didn’t try to impress him! You just stood there in your cheap boots and talked about concrete, and that made you endlessly fascinating to him!”
Kyle, who was gathering the discarded coats from the sofa, raised a single index finger. “She actually presents a highly valid psychological observation there, Rupert.”
Brooke whipped around, turning her fury on her husband. “Whose side are you currently occupying, Kyle?!”
“I am firmly on the side of whichever jurisdiction possesses functioning, central heating,” Kyle replied calmly, walking toward the kitchen.
Brooke watched him leave. Then, she collapsed onto the edge of the sofa.
