Are you really married?
Really?
Of all the things she could say, it was that?
For a second, I thought maybe—just maybe—this would finally be a normal day. Avery's unannounced visit had rattled me, the dropped call with Val had left a hollow in my chest, and when it finally felt like I had a moment of reprieve—Clarkson's voice giving me something solid to hold onto—Tasha had to bring this up.
I blinked at her, still strapped into the passenger seat, the faint new-leather smell of her car pressing in like it wanted me to stay calm. But calm wasn't easy when the question sat in the air like a trap.
Her eyes didn't waver. If anything, she looked like she'd been holding the question in for a while, measuring when—or if—she should ask it.
She gave the smallest shrug, like she already knew how absurd it sounded. "It's just… you're wearing a ring." Her gaze flicked down to my hand before finding my eyes again.
