He told her it had been short and bad and that he did not want to talk about it, and then, over about four months, in fragments, he told her more, because a man who refuses to discuss something once is hiding it and a man who lets it out slowly is healing.

He told her that his ex-wife was a federal employee in Jacksonville, which is true.

He told her that they had bought a house in Palm Beach together and that the divorce had left it in a tangle — that she held the title, that he had put money into it, that there was an arrangement whereby he still had use of it and still paid toward it and that his lawyer had told him to leave it alone until it could be unwound cleanly.

Which explains why he had keys.

Which explains why he could bring her there in the evening.

Which explains why there was a woman’s handwriting on a calendar in the kitchen and why there were things in the closet and why, on one occasion in the November, Giselle found a prescription bottle in a bathroom cabinet with my name on it.