Before I could open it, he tossed something else into my lap.
It was a hand cream.
"I had someone pick this up abroad. It's supposed to be really effective."
I glanced at the packaging, unimpressed, and put the cream back on the table.
My voice was calm as I said, "No thanks. I can't use something that expensive."
That set him off.
Then and there, Adrian leaned over the table, irritation flashing across his face as he lashed out, "Emily, stop acting like you're doing me a favor! It's just a tie, for god's sake! If it's ruined, buy a new one. Why are you making a big deal out of it?"
"No, I'm not," I honestly replied, which only caused him to scoff.
"You're not? Then why won't you take the gift? Why do you look like you're jealous again? Come on, Emily! You're already thirty. Do you really think you can still compete with women in their twenties?"
It wasn't the first time he had thrown my age in my face. He often compared me to Clara, who was only two years younger than me.
In frustration, I confronted him, tears brimming in my eyes as I demanded an answer.