And the soft woman he thought he’d married was standing in the foyer with a suitcase and a lawyer’s number and absolutely nothing left to lose, because he had shown me his real face before I’d unpacked a single box.

“You’re throwing away our marriage over a joke?” he shouted, his voice cracking.

“A joke.” I let out a soft laugh.

“Casper, throwing a filthy rag in someone’s face isn’t a joke.

It’s a preview.

And I don’t buy tickets to horror movies.”