The glass was slapped down on the mantel top, whisky slopping over the side to splash on to white marble. That seemed to do it, lift the top right off his self-control, and he surged to his feet. ‘That’s no damned answer and you know it.’
You can easily afford to support us.’ Another shrug, and she was amazed at her own calmness when she knew she should really be screeching at him like a fishwife. ‘I want a divorce,’ she heard herself say, and was as surprised by the statement as Daniel was, because the idea of divorce hadn’t so much as entered her head before she’d said it. It must feel like this, she pondered flatly, when someone you love dearly dies. She had an idea she might fall apart when that happened. Her eyes felt stuck, fixed in a permanent stare which refused to focus properly-like her emotions-locked on hold until something or someone hit the right button to set them free. And she realised that she had been sitting here just staring blankly at him but not really seeing him. ‘Say something, for God’s sake!’ he ground out, making her blink, because Daniel rarely raised his voice to her like that. Blame everything and anything so long as it is not yourself.
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