Angelo sat silently with his head buried between his legs. The images of Emily flashed before his eyes, and he wondered what she must be thinking of him. Never had the thought of cheating crossed his mind, and he feared that he might lose his precocious wife.
"Hey!" Angelo quickly raised his head from between his legs and stood up. His hair was still wet, water was dripping from his head, and a wet towel was wrapped around his waist.
There she was, Angelo stared at Emily, and there was no sign of anything resembling anger or happiness—just nothing.
"I can explain," he blurted out.
"No, you do not."
"No! I need to explain everything; what you saw was not what it really was."
"I know," she answered plainly, and her reply had come as a surprise to Angelo.
"You know?"