Mark appeared in the hallway with a glass of whiskey in his hand, his tie loosened, his expression annoyed rather than concerned. “What are you doing?” he asked. “It’s ten degrees out there.”
“Feels colder,” I replied.
He studied me for a moment. “You’ve been acting strange all week.”
I let out a quiet laugh that surprised even me. “Strange?”
“Yes. Distant. Like you’re somewhere else.”
I looked at him carefully, noticing the faint smear of lipstick near his collar that he must have thought I hadn’t seen earlier. “Maybe I am somewhere else,” I said softly.
The wind slammed against the windows again, rattling the glass as if it wanted to be let in. Mark rolled his eyes and walked back toward the living room. “If this is about what you think you saw—”
