“Are you going to say anything?” Trevor asked, shifting nervously in front of her as she stood there, staring at him in disbelief.
There was no way that he could have said what she thought he’d said, because that would mean that he’d willingly sat back and watched her make a fool out of herself for all these years. He wouldn’t do that. Not the man that she loved.
“Sweetheart?” he said, continuing to shift nervously in front of her, which only made her more suspicious, because if there was one thing that she could say about her husband, besides that fact that he had an unnatural love of food, it was that he didn’t get nervous, about anything.