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My husband went to see his mother in the hospital by himself because she “needed peace”—but a month later, when I finally went there, a nurse handed me a note that made my knees give out.

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me, sliding back inside. “You know how it is.”

“You’ve been taking a lot of work calls lately.”

“It’s a busy quarter, babe.”

I let it go. I always let it go.

One evening, Michael came back from the hospital with his shirt collar smelling faintly of perfume that wasn’t mine. I told myself it was a nurse, or a visitor in the elevator, or my imagination running continue reading …

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