Smith’s POV.

I blinked at Marcus.

“Wait…what are you trying to say?” My voice came out hoarse. I rubbed my fingers together like I was trying to scrub something invisible off my skin.

Marcus didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Just stared at me like he was picking apart every crack in my face. Like he could see straight through to whatever was caving in under my chest.

“I’m saying,” he finally said, slowly, “you ever paid attention to where Petunia goes during the day?”

I frowned. “What?”

“Like... does she go out often? Groceries? Gym? Spa? Yoga? Brunch with the girls?” He tilted his head. “You know the...