My Husband Demanded I Apologize to His Daughter, So I Walked Out of My Own House

“Three years,” Daniel said.

He smiled and reached across the table to cover my right hand with his left.

His fingers felt dry and warm against my knuckles.

“You’ve been working so hard this month, Claire,” he said.

I looked down at the soft velvet lid.

“Taking those weekend project management shifts is exactly what we need right now,” he said.

“It feels like we’re barely seeing each other on Saturdays,” I said.

“It’s building our future,” he said.