To Julian.

She watched my husband the way a person watches someone they are certain of.

I felt, looking at her, none of the things I had expected to feel.

I had braced, in the days before, for a wave of jealousy, some primal urge toward the younger woman who had taken my place.

It did not come.

What I felt instead, watching Chloe watch Julian with that easy proprietary certainty, was a kind of sorrowful recognition, because I had once stood exactly where she was standing.

I had once looked at that man with precisely that confidence, sure of him, sure of my place at his side, certain that the warmth he showed me was mine alone and permanent.