Renae: Finally get to see you tonight.

Can’t wait. A second later the phone buzzed again, mirroring his reply from his watch: Warner: She’s in the house.

Bad timing.

Just wait. I stood at the threshold with his warm, pressed shirt in my hands.

Fifteen feet away, in my own kitchen, my husband was coordinating logistics with the other woman. She’s here.

Bad timing. I did not storm in.