Without looking at him, I scrolled through Lindsay's old posts. It hit me then that since she started working as James's secretary. She had been flaunting gifts from him. In just a year, she had received more than I had in eight years of marriage.
A sarcastic smile crept across my face. "Spent nearly a million on her, and she still couldn't treat you to dinner?"
James didn't see that coming, and his impatience flared. "What's wrong with you? Those were year-end bonuses. Secretaries work hard, so I gave her more. What's the big deal? Don't you understand management? Isn't that part of your job?"
"Oh, and do you also give your regular employees shares and river-view mansions? You're a pretty generous boss. Maybe I should quit my job and come work for you."
His face darkened just as his phone chimed with a new message. Glancing at the screen, his expression softened, and a smile tugged at his lips. I didn't need to ask.
It was Lindsay.
When he looked back at me, the anger was gone. "I've explained everything. And I didn't even get upset about your comment on her post. If I had something going on with her, do you think I'd be here tonight? What am I, a masochist who enjoys your cold stares?"
I ignored him and walked to the kitchen. Of course, he thought I felt guilty and was about to make dinner to smooth things over.
"Forget it," he sighed. "Don't bother cooking this late. I'll grab something from the cake shop. Can you imagine celebrating my birthday like this, dealing with your moods? What did I do to deserve this?"
As James spoke, I exited the kitchen, holding a trash bag. When he saw me heading for the door, he froze.
Turning to me with a wary look, he snapped, "I'm just going to buy a cake. Why are you following me? What do you think I'm going to do in an hour? You're losing it. Why don't you just put a surveillance camera on me while you're at it?"
I understood why James was angry. In the past, whenever he came home late from work or some social event, I'd ask him to share his location so I wouldn't worry. I decided to give James a ride if he drank too much. But he took it the wrong way every time, accusing me of being controlling. This time, though, I didn't bother calling him out on his lie about the cake. I knew he didn't even like sweets.