Sweet Poison

I freeze. Across the table, Chloe's knuckles whiten around her fork. Great. Another breadcrumb. Could you maybe stop seasoning my life with these meaningless gestures?

I swear, the man's fishing with live bait, convinced I'll bite if he sprinkles just enough sweetness. Does he honestly believe "good wife" is a default setting I'll slide back into if he keeps buttering the pan?

But a real partner e