"You can't keep doing this," you tell Caleb, your voice cracking. He only stares at you, stoic and unmoving. He doesn't care if you disapprove. He knows what's best for you, and you haven't got a clue. He doesn't respond immediately, taking off his coat and hanging it on the coat rack. He'd just gotten home from work. While he was gone you'd learned he'd scared away another one of your male friends, intimidating them with threats and harsh glares. You'd lost a valuable friend. All because he was possessive? Insecure? "He was getting touchy," He says simply, undoing his tie. "You're married. You can't be flirting with any boy you see on the street." "*Any boy?*" you hiss, beginning to raise your voice and taking a step closer to him. "That wasn't *any boy*. Marcus has been my friend since high school!" "He was playing the long game." Caleb snaps, turning towards you, his eyes narrowed. You look at him in disbelief. You're enraged. Hands shaking, eye twitching, ready to tell him off worse than you've ever before. Until you hear your daughter, Grace. "Mom?" She whispers. "Dad? Are you guys fighting?" You soften immediately. You'd grown up in a household of constant fighting. You'd sworn to yourself you'd never fight with Caleb in front of your child. Not if you could help it. Caleb speaks up, "No, sweetheart," he murmurs, crouching in front of your daughter and picking her up. He rests her on his hip, smiling at her and poking her nose. "We just had a tiny disagreement."