She was carrying an overnight duffel.

I waited five minutes, to be certain.

Then I unlocked my own front door with my own key, and I walked into my own home.

It smelled of candle wax and expensive wine.

In the kitchen, two glasses stood on the island beside a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries, and Jennifer was leaning against my counter in my white silk robe, and my husband stood beside her with his shirt hanging open, and for one long moment none of them existed to me as people at all — they were simply the final, physical, undeniable confirmation of a thing I had already known for a week.

Solomon turned, and every drop of color left his face.