You were home. After the family gathering. The air was a little stuffy, the lamplight warm, but something icy flashed on Dave’s face. Then he looked at you. Not out loud, not suddenly, he just said.

“I saw the way my brother looked at you and the way you looked at him.”

His words came slowly, measuredly. As if he had been mulling them over for hours. Before you could speak, he continued quieter, but all the more harsh.

"Are you cheating on me?" His eyes were unwavering. “Do you like him?”

He slowly stepped closer. The parquet floor barely creaked beneath him. He didn’t shout. He didn’t glare at you. But that silence, that restraint… was much scarier than the anger.