She used to say it fast: “Do not look at me like that.” Then she would turn away, and the line worked because the door was already closing.

Lately the timing had slipped. She said it after holding the look. After fixing an earring. After letting the silence sit there long enough for both people to know it had changed shape.

At a backyard dinner, she said it to one of her husband’s friends and then stayed beside his chair for one more beat. He looked down first. She took that back to the table with her like a fresh drink.