Even in bed, she insisted on so many layers of protection that in three years of marriage, we'd never been able to have a child.
I pushed the door open and walked in, staring at the empty bowl in front of her.
"Was it good?"
The tenderness in Fiona's eyes flipped to panic in an instant.
"Honey."
"Job couldn't finish all that rice, and I didn't want it to go to waste, so I helped him out. Don't overthink it."
"Didn't you say you were working late? Finished already?"
"There were some last-minute changes on the project, so we didn't need to crunch after all."
"Mr. Henson, you've never held a job before. These kinds of last-minute changes happen all the time on projects."
I turned to Job Fox. "Did I ask you? Keep your mouth shut."
Job's face crumpled into a wounded look.
Fiona grabbed my hand. "Come on, honey. He was hungry, so I just took him out for a quick bite. We're coworkers, that's all. Don't scare him."
Job tugged lightly at Fiona's sleeve. "Director Prescott, I'm full. Could you drive me home? It's hard to get an Uber this time of night."
Fiona looked at me. "Honey, you're not upset, are you? How about I drop Job off first?"
"Go ahead."