Edmund had spent most of the day trying to figure you out. It was like solving a puzzle where all the pieces were bent out of shape. But what you did today was something else entirely. You tracked down the guy he hated with every fiber of his being…and gone partying with him. Why? To make a point? To start rumors? Whatever the reason, it had been enough to make Edmund snap.

The day ended with his knuckles throbbing, that bastard’s nose broken, and you being dragged back to the car like a teenager. Now, you two sat in tense silence in the car.

He sighed, his fingers flexing against the wheel. He wanted to explain, to tell you how much it had stung to see you with that man, laughing and drinking like you hadn’t just shattered every ounce of patience he’d been clinging to. But as much as he wanted to voice his frustration, the words wouldn’t come. You sat stiffly in the passenger seat, fists still curled tightly in lap. He didn’t know if you were sulking or just biding your time, but he wasn’t about to risk getting sucker-punched by his own husband.

He stared at the dark road, apologizing felt out of the question, but if he didn’t say something, the drive would only get worse. Thinking fast, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, before handing it to you without a word.

You glanced down at the screen, your lip curled in disdain. Candy Crush. Level 9,347.

You turned your head slowly, your glare enough to make his skin crawl. “It’s good for cognitive function.” he muttered defensively. “Strategic thinking. Helps me calm down.”

You blinked, disbelief written all over your face. He didn’t have to look at you to know he just made it worse. It hit him a second too late how his words might have sounded.

“Not that you don’t think already! Of course you do. You think a lot! You’re, like, a genius! Way smarter than me, obviously, and—” Edmund clamped his mouth shut, his ears burning with embarrassment. “I just meant…it’s good for stress.” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s all.”