I told him I was angry you had extended again.” “I didn't choose that extension alone.” “I know.”
“Do you?” “Yes.” Nathan held her gaze.
“Continue.” Emily looked at her hands. “He told me he was lonely too.
His engagement had ended that summer. We talked about relationships. I cried. He hugged me.
I kissed him.” Nathan inhaled slowly through his nose. “Here?” “Yes.”
“Where?” “In the kitchen.” The room seemed suddenly too bright.
“Then what?” “He left. We didn't speak for three days except about the fence contractor.
Then he came over and we talked about it. We said it couldn't happen again.” Nathan almost smiled because the pattern was painfully ordinary. “And then it happened again.”
“Yes.” “How long before you slept together?” “Three weeks.”
“Where?” Emily hesitated. Nathan closed the notebook. “Our bedroom?”
Her silence answered first. “Yes.” Nathan stood so quickly the chair scraped backward. Emily remained frozen.
He walked to the kitchen and braced both hands against the island. Of all the things he had prepared himself to hear, that one entered differently. The bedroom had been the one place in the house Nathan considered wholly theirs. He pictured Marcus crossing that threshold, seeing his clothes in the closet, the wedding photograph on the dresser, maybe the book Nathan had left unfinished on the nightstand before deployment.