“You’re standing very stiffly,” he said.

He stepped closer to me.

“I’m just tired too,” I said, taking a half-step back under the pretense of leaning against the island.

He stared at me for a long moment.

“We need to have a real talk soon, Clara,” he said, his voice dropping to a lower register.

“About what?” I asked.

“Our marriage,” he said. “The way things have been between us lately.”

He took another step toward me, his expression hardening.

“I want to make sure we’re on the same page,” he said. “Especially before the annual partners’ dinner next month.”

“I am always on your page, Ethan,” I said.

He didn’t smile.

“I hope so,” he said. “Because any kind of public instability right now would be disastrous.”

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my cheek.

“And we both know how much your family values their reputation,” he added softly.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he said, though his eyes remained cold. “Just a reminder. Your father’s health isn’t what it used to be. He doesn’t need any stress.”