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“Maggie?” her husband says, emerging from their bedroom. “Shit! What the hell?…” He drops to his knees. “Are you fucking crazy?!”
“Are you?” she shouts. “I almost shot you, for God’s sake. What the hell are you doing here?”
“You have a fucking gun?! Holy shit!”
They continue screaming expletives at each other until they both run out of breath. Maggie bursts into tears as she collapses to the floor across from him. It is several minutes before either can speak with any coherence.
“I don’t believe you,” Craig says finally. “You bought a gun?!”
“You left. What was I supposed to do?”
“How about see a fucking psychiatrist?”
“I don’t need a psychiatrist.”
“Really? You almost shot me!”
“You broke into my house!”
“I didn’t break in,” Craig tells her. “I have a key. I know the code.”
“Where’s your car?”
“I borrowed one from the lot.”
Maggie pictures the unfamiliar car parked on the street, trying to wrap her head around what just happened. She’d almost shot her husband, for God’s sake.That’swhat happened. “What are you fucking doing here anyway?”
“I came to get my stuff….”
“So…what? You don’t call? You don’t ask permission? You just show up?” Maggie demands.
“I tried calling. You didn’t pick up. I left a message….”
Maggie looks toward the phone on the floor beside her.Shit. That’s why he was calling.“Then you should have waited till I returned your call. It’s just a camera and some old cuff links. What’s the big hurry?”
“I need the cuff links.”
Maggie senses his reluctance to say more and raises an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.
“I have a wedding this weekend,” he explains. “Not that I have to justify wanting my personal belongings back.”
“A wedding?” Maggie searches her brain for anyone they know who could be getting married. “Who’s getting married? We don’t know anyone.”
“It’s someone at work.”
“Someone at work,” Maggie repeats, knowing she’s not getting the full story. Craig was never very good at hiding things from her. And he’s a lousy liar, always has been. “Who?”
“What difference does it make?”
“What aren’t you telling me?” she counters. “Remember—you’re talking to a woman with a loaded gun in her hands.”
Craig sighs. “Okay. Fine. I’ll tell you…on the condition that you put the damn thing away.”
Maggie lays the gun on the floor beside her. “Shoot,” she says, hoping for a laugh. “Sorry,” she says, when one isn’t forthcoming. “So, who’s getting married?”
“Actually, I don’t know the couple personally.” Craig hesitates. “I’m kind of…the plus-one.”
Maggie takes a second to let his words sink in. “Are you saying you’re someone’s date?”
