The champagne bottle sits between us like an accusation. Chloe's face drains of color as she realizes what she's done.
"No, I didn't mean... God, Noah, I wasn't thinking about celebrating her death." She shoves the bottle back into her purse, hands trembling. "I meant celebrating us being back together, even if it's pretend. I thought maybe afterward, when we're driving home..."
"Put it away." My voice cuts through her explanation. "The last thing I want to do after watching a woman die is toast to our fake reconciliation."
She fumbles with her purse zipper, the sound unnaturally loud in the car's silence. When she finally gets it closed, she presses her back against the passenger door, as far from me as possible.
"Can we listen to music instead?" she asks quietly. "The silence is making this worse."
I gesture toward the dashboard. "Go ahead."
