Ethan leaned against the edge of the kitchen island.

He checked his silver watch, tapping the glass face twice with his thumb.

“Did you think the fitting was weird?” I asked.

Ethan picked up a slice of raw pepper from the board.

“Look, it sounded fine to me,” Ethan said.

“You got the dress pinned.”

“Why would Vanessa tell the tailor to cut my veil without asking me?” I asked.

Ethan chewed the pepper and swallowed.