Betrayed
he asked with a dark eyebrow cocked up, questioningly.
“You eat your fries with your fork don’t you?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, his eyebrows tightly knit together.
“That’s weird,” I said playfully.
“What’s weird is your obsession with married men,” he said under his breath, but loud enough for me to hear. Stunned by his comment I felt a large ball forming in my throat. I tried with difficulty to swallow the bile I felt rising as my eyes watered on their own accord. “Shit, Harper, I’m sorry” he said, taking a deep breath and running a hand across his face in frustration. He grabbed my hand and lifted my chin so that I would look at him. “I’m sorry, I really don’t know why I said that” he said,
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