He had no audience to impress now, no sympathetic girlfriend, no wife preparing dinner.

He picked up his suitcase.

Then he looked at me with an expression I hadn’t seen since the week after our wedding.

“Jo, I really don’t have anywhere to go.”

Something in me still moved toward him.

Twenty-two years of habit do not disappear because a deed changes hands.

“I know some hotels,” I said.

“You taught me how to find them when you left.”