Falling at Her Feet
Still, he defaulted to the same old tricks by lowering his voice, trying to coax me, "Come on, don't be mad. I'll buy you that latest bag you were eyeing last time when I get back."
Then he strode over, scooped Tiffany up, and carried her through the crowd.
Maybe he thought I was just throwing a tantrum throughout the whole conversation. But I never throw tantrums. When someone crossed my line, I never hesitated to walk away.
Tiffany curled into his chest, trembling. But just before they disappeared through the door, she turned her head and shot me a triumphant look.
I caught the movement of her lips as she mouthed the words: "Your husband sure knows how to take care of a woman. And he's goo