Leroy's head jerked to the side, his expression momentarily stunned, his eyes wide and searching, as if trying to understand why.
Lorraine's chest heaved, her eyes ablaze with heartbreak and defiance. She didn't regret the slap.
She needed him back.
This state of his… his fractured silence, of stoic despair, was unsustainable, especially now, with dark clouds looming over them and enemies actively scheming their downfall. Whatever unspoken torment he was clutching… she wanted it spoken. Just as she broke her silence with him, he, too, should speak his mind about his pain. At least, to her.
The slap might be the push he needed. Wouldn't it be humiliating for a man like him to be slapped by his wife, a woman?
Speak, Leroy!
"I'll protect you," Leroy said, standing abruptly. He didn't touch his cheek where the slap had landed. Maybe it hadn't been hard enough, or maybe he didn't care. But his eyes had cleared further, sharper, more focused.
He was looking at her.
