"Cassandra's apartment has a water leak. I told her she could stay with us for a couple of days."
I looked at how perfectly at ease Morris was and let out a short laugh.
"Why not just book her a nice hotel? That'd be way more comfortable than our place."
His brow creased.
"I'm not asking for your opinion. I'm informing you."
"Regina, don't you dare—"
"I don't have a problem with it."
I cut him off before he could finish scolding me.
"But I've been pretty busy lately, so you'll have to entertain your guest yourself."
"I'm heading upstairs. You two carry on."
I turned and walked through the door, pretending I didn't see the confusion and surprise that flickered across Morris's face.
Once, at a dinner with his friends, someone had gotten drunk and asked him:
"Morris, have you really gotten over Cassandra?"
We'd had a massive fight when we got home that night. I kept pressing him about his history with Cassandra, and all it earned me was three days of the silent treatment.
After that, my nerves stayed on a hair trigger when it came to anything related to her. The smallest thing would send me spiraling, clinging to him with questions for hours.