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She began gliding her hand slowly up my leg. I grabbed her wrist and pulled it away.

“Do you know who killed him? Why did he find a house for us? Is he in real estate? Does he live in the area? Were you friends in high school? College? Did you work together? A childhood friend? Come on, I deserve answers.”

“You deserve answers? I told you I’m not having an affair, and you don’t believe me, which hurts⁠—”

“I know. It hurts your feelings.”

She actually did look hurt, but I didn’t regret mocking her.

“I’m not gaslighting you. I told you who he is. I told you I knew him in the past and we lost touch. And now he’s dead and I don’t think any of that matters because we’re supposed to be trying to put this behind us!”

“You haven’t answered the most important question. Do you know who killed him?”

“How would I know?”

“I’m not sure. But I don’t understand how some random guy you were sneaking around with ended up dead in our pool. Or why. Or why the person who killed him in such an undignified manner left a threatening note. I’m concerned about what you might be involved with. Something you can’t tell me. Don’t you understand how my imagination might be running away with that?”

“You need to make it stop running and trust me.”

“I can’t, because you keep lying or avoiding the truth.”

“You can’t trust me?”

“No, not really.”

“That h⁠—”

“Don’t say it.”

I turned off the light and tugged my pillow down to my neck. “I’m going to try to get some sleep. In the morning, if you don’t tell me who that guy was, I’m going home. We need some time apart to reassess our marriage.”

FIFTY-SIX

EMILY

He couldn’t do this to me! He didn’t get to turn off the light and announce he was starting a trial separation. That wasn’t a unilateral decision, for one thing. But most of all, it was cruel. He accused me of cheating based on zero evidence, and then he badgered me with questions about where I was and what I was doing. He made me want to keep things to myself. I adored him. I wasn’t sure I could live without him. Seriously. But I needed to be a separate person. I didn’t want my entire life laid out in every single detail to one person. It wasn’t healthy. It was claustrophobic.

I reached over and flicked on my light.

“We’re done talking,” he said without opening his eyes.

“I’m not.”

“I’m tired.”

“You weren’t tired two minutes ago.”

“Now I am.”

“I don’t want to fight.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “Please, Keith. I don’t want you to go home! Especially with Patrick the way he’s been.”

“Patrick won’t hurt you.”

“I’m not worried about him hurting me. I don’t want you to leave! I want to enjoy our vacation that we’ve looked forward to for almost a year, despite everything that’s happened. I don’t want you to leave me.” My voice caught when I said leave me, causing me to gasp for air. In that empty space, he didn’t say anything.

“I don’t want a separation!” I said. “I don’t want to reassess our marriage. We have an amazing marriage. I know this for a fact. I see a lot of couples every day—patients and their families. Our marriage is incredible. When my co-workers talk about their relationships, I can feel how incredible ours is.”

“I’m glad you think so.”