I blinked.
“Your things?”
“My gifts! My personal messages!”
“Vanessa, you delivered those gifts to my husband. He brought them home. We didn’t break into your house to collect them.”
“You’re trying to humiliate me!”
I tilted my head.
“No. You told me you intended to take my husband. You repeatedly pursued him after he rejected you. You spread rumors about our marriage. Then you organized a party, invited him without me, and expected the neighborhood to watch you win.”
I paused.
“I’m simply returning your property.”
Her mouth tightened.
“You think you’re so clever.”
“Not particularly. I just married a man who knows how to use the front door when he brings things home.”
A burst of laughter escaped someone near the grill.
Vanessa’s eyes flashed.
“That’s enough!”
But the moment had already slipped beyond her control.
She tried to close the box.
Unfortunately, the cookie tin slid forward, knocked against the bottle of wine, and sent one of the sealed notes onto the table.
