My wife packed seductive sleepwear into her weekend bag and said, “I’m spending three nights with Thorne. When I come back, I’ll choose between you and him.” I didn’t raise my voice. I simply said, “Okay. I’ll wait—on one condition.”
The folded paper trembled slightly in Madison’s hand. I noticed it before I noticed anything else—the missing suitcase, the mascara faintly smudged beneath her eyes, even the fact that one of her shoes was scuffed as though she had walked farther than she wanted to admit. “What is that?” I asked. She looked down at the paper as if she had forgotten she was holding it. “Caleb, please.” “That isn’t an answer.” Her fingers tightened around it. “Can we sit down?” I almost laughed at the request. Three nights earlier, she had stood in that same living room with a weekend bag full of clothes she had chosen for another man and told me she would return after deciding which of us she wanted. Now she was asking permission to sit on my couch. “Sit wherever you want.” She lowered herself onto the edge of the sofa. I remained standing. For several seconds, neither of us spoke. The house was so quiet I could hear the ceiling fan clicking faintly above us. Madison stared at her hands. “Thorne g...