There he was tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear while she kissed his cheek.

Her name was Dagny.

She was twenty-nine, a junior marketing specialist, and she had been seeing my husband for at least six months.

It was the small gesture that undid me, not the hotel.

The hotel I had braced for; a hotel is just a fact.

But the photograph of him tucking her hair behind her ear — that one I had to set down and pick back up twice.