They both turned. Daniel’s face drained of color. My mother didn’t bother hiding her reaction. Her lips curled, slow and satisfied.
“Well,” she said, leaning back, “look who decided to show up.”
“Yeah. Funny how that happens when people stop whispering.”
Daniel stepped toward me. “Hey… this isn’t what you think.”
“Oh, I’d love to hear what I think,” I cut in. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like my husband is lying about business trips and meeting my mother behind my back.”
“Lower your voice,” my mother said calmly. “No need to make this ugly.”
I laughed once. “Ugly? You ran off with my fiancé, and now you’re worried about ugly?”
“Let’s not dig up old drama,” she waved her hand. “We’re talking about something much more… practical.”
Daniel turned sharply. “Stop.”
“No!” she leaned forward. “Tell her about that little workshop she dreams about. The one she thinks was just… lost?”
I frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Daniel rubbed his face. “I was going to tell you. I just needed more time.”
“For what? To coordinate your lies better?”
My mother chuckled. “Oh, honey, he’s not that clever.”
“Enough!” Daniel looked at me. “That building… the old one near the river. The one your father used to talk about?”
“Yeah… what about it?”
