He was carrying on the way he always did, the heat was rising up my neck, colouring my cheeks.
‘I don’t think you realize what you have in me. It’s not every man who will put up with this kind of behaviour, you know, you’re lucky to have me. Lots of men would have walked away from a woman who doesn’t know her place, but I was at least willing to try, to give you a chance. You’ve gone too far this time, though, embarrassing me in public by dressing like that. It’s like you’re advertising! I don’t think you can make this up to me.’
I don’t know why this time was different, why the heat colouring my cheeks was from anger instead of humiliation, but somewhere a switch was flipped and I stood up, furious.
‘Devon, honey.’ He wasn’t bright enough to hear the venom in my words. ‘You know, I’m always an embarrassment to you, no matter how I dress, no matter how I act. And I know that you think I should try and make it up to you, but you’re right, I just don’t think I can.’
I threw my napkin on the table and walked out into the May evening. I wasn’t an embarrassment to anyone, for a change, I wasn’t even an embarrassment to myself.