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?"