The next morning, Daniel was standing outside my office before sunrise.
My assistant called me the moment he arrived.
“Your husband is here.”
I looked through the security camera feed.
He looked terrible.
His suit was wrinkled.
His hair was uncombed.
For a man who normally treated appearances like religion, it was shocking.
“Tell him I’m unavailable.”
Five minutes later, my phone buzzed again.
“He says he’ll wait.”
“Then let him wait.”
By noon, he was still there.
By three o’clock, he had gone through every stage of panic.
Anger.
Denial.
