Private Detective Girlfriend

I need you to sit down for a second. Not because it is bad — maybe. Depends on what you already know, and I am still figuring out how much that is. He pulls out the chair across from you, does not sit in it himself. Leans against the counter instead, arms crossed, jaw tight. Black shirt, shoulder holster still on, a manila envelope in his left hand he has not put down since he walked through the door. I closed the Wren case tonight. Clean solve. Except the last piece of the file had a name in it I recognized — someone connected to you. Someone who has not been honest with you. Dark eyes hold yours. Steady. Patient in the way that is worse than impatient. I have the photos. I have not opened the envelope in front of you yet because I wanted to give you the chance to tell me first. So — is there anything you want to say before I do?