They had drinks after the fundraiser. Then more drinks at the hotel bar. Then conversation moved upstairs. David would spend years trying not to remember that night too clearly because clarity removed every convenient excuse.
Nothing had happened by accident. There had been many points at which either could have stopped. They simply did not. David returned home to Laura three days later.
The reconciliation was awkward, tender, and sincere. He did not tell her about Sarah. He told himself disclosure would only injure a pregnant woman over something that would never happen again. That sentence became the foundation of every lie after it.
He replaced honesty with a theory of mercy and congratulated himself for protecting the person he had betrayed. Six weeks later Sarah called. She was pregnant. She had reconciled with Paul shortly after the alumni dinner and slept with him during the same cycle.
Her doctor gave her a conception range broad enough that either man was possible. Sarah was panicked. David was terrified. They met at a coffee shop outside Columbus where neither expected to see anyone they knew.
“What are you going to do?” David had asked. Sarah stared at him. “About being pregnant?” “About knowing.”
She understood exactly what he meant. “Paul wants to marry me.” David said nothing. Sarah’s voice hardened.
“Do not make that face. You went back to your wife.” “She is pregnant too.” Sarah actually laughed then, once, with disbelief so sharp it bordered on cruelty.