"Who Is Blake?"
Delilah found herself asking, since that was the response that seemed most important to her than anything else. It was what had brought her there. She was in a quest to know the man she had fallen for, God save her.
Madam Quinn chuckled, "Isn't Blake your husband?"
Delilah wasn't amused, "I'm tired of your games. You don't like people beating around the bush but you've been doing that to me since we met. Can you please give me a direct response?" Delilah snapped impatiently, unable to help herself.
Madam Quinn regarded Delilah with an inscrutable expression. For a moment, she didn't speak, and Delilah feared she might delay her answers again.
Delilah's fingers curled into fists beneath the table, hidden from view. Her mind was swirling with suspicions, doubts, and fears she hadn't dared to voice until now. But she couldn't avoid this any longer. "I want to know the truth," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "What is he hiding from me?"