Mark pulled his tie all the way off his collar, folded it in half, and stuffed it into his coat pocket.

“I’m not going to pretend about Chicago anymore,” Mark said, crossing his arms over his white shirt.

“There was no corporate meeting.”

“I know,” I said.

Mark paused for a second, his fingers catching on the silver band of his wristwatch.

“It doesn’t matter what you know,” Mark said.

“The point is that we’re done, and Vanessa is moving her things in this weekend.”

Vanessa unbuttoned her wool coat and hung it on the wooden peg I had painted three springs ago.