She stared woodenly through the windshield as Ken carefully disengaged the keys from her hand and then closed her door. In a matter of seconds he was in the driver’s seat starting the engine, almost as if he were afraid she’d leap from the car. And she’d given it serious consideration, but then she’d have to figure out a way home, which meant having the restaurant call her a cab, or she could call Sandra or Sophia. Either would come at a moment’s notice.
But then she would be faced with the humiliating fact that her best friends would know her anniversary had been a complete disaster. Hell, for that matter they may have suspected it would be a cluster f**k from the very start. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t expressed enough concern over her faltering relationship with her husband.
Ken pulle
