He tried, eventually, in a voice stripped of its usual polish: the affair had “spiraled out of his control,” but he swore he had never planned to divorce me.

I laughed, bitter.

“That’s the anthem of every coward who gets caught.

You wanted the stability of a loyal wife and the ego-stroke of a mistress.

You wanted me dignified at galas and her admiring in hotel rooms, and you expected no one to ever walk away.

What made you think you could keep both?” He flinched.