I’m sorry. About last night.” I smile. His eyes drop to my lips. He’s as unsorry as I am, but I’ve gotten over the mandatory guilt trip. I’m not, I type on my phone. “I’m married.” His lips tremble after that declaration. I nod, indicating that I know. “I won’t do it again.” I nod again. But his eyes devour my face. His lips tell me one thing, but his eyes speak a language we both understand. His lips are lying. His eyes tell me a hundred truths. So,
