Ordered sparkling water.
Then wine.
Fiona arrived in a dark green dress.
Gold earrings.
Hair pinned back.
Beautiful.
I felt love when I saw her.
That surprised me.
Betrayal does not instantly erase attachment.
That would make life simpler.
We ordered.
Talked about ordinary things.
My brother Garrett.
Rosalind’s new apartment.
Fiona’s quarterly review.
A case I had finished.
She laughed twice.
I wondered whether she had practiced being normal before ending the marriage.
Maybe.
Maybe people can simply occupy contradictory realities for longer than we imagine.
Main course arrived.
We ate.
Then Fiona set down her fork.
“I need to tell you something.”
There it was.
“I need you to let me finish.”
I nodded.
She began.
“I've been seeing someone.”
Pause.
“For two years.”
She watched my face.
I gave her nothing.
“I’m not going to insult you by calling it a mistake.”
“I made choices.”
“I kept making them.”
“I’ve thought about this for months.”
“Our marriage hasn't been right for a long time.”
“You're gone constantly.”
“I’m gone constantly.”
“We became efficient roommates.”
“I felt invisible.”
“I felt like everything in our life was scheduled and stable and dead.”
That sentence hurt.
More than the affair admission.
Dead.
She continued.
“Bryce made me feel…”
She stopped.
That was how I learned she intended to name him.
“Alive?”
I supplied.
Fiona looked startled.
“Yes.”
She studied me.
“I’m leaving.”
“I've already decided.”
“I thought you deserved to hear it from me.”
She finished.
I lifted the wine.
“Then I wish you nothing but happiness, Fiona.”
Confusion.
“That’s it?”
“What else is there?”
“Aren't you angry?”
“Yes.”
That surprised her.
“You don't look angry.”
“I’m good at my face.”
She stared.
“Aren't you going to ask about him?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I know who Bryce Callaway is.”
All color left her face.
“What?”
I took another drink.
“I've known for six weeks.”
Fiona said nothing.
The silence between us changed completely.
“How?”
“I noticed a hotel charge.”
“Then another.”
“I finally stopped explaining them away.”
“You investigated me.”
“No.”
“I investigated the inconsistency.”
“Don't play games with words.”
“I didn't access your phone.”
“I didn't follow you.”
“I didn't break into accounts.”
“I used financial records we both own and public information.”
She looked furious now.
“You knew for six weeks and pretended?”
“I was deciding what I wanted.”
“What do you want?”
“A divorce.”
That landed harder than she expected.
I could see it.
“You already decided?”