We’re already planning the move into your—” she caught herself, and laughed “—well.

His downtown condo.”

I almost smiled.

I want to be honest that I almost smiled, lying there, because she had just told me, without knowing it, that neither of them had the faintest idea what was coming, that they were decorating a house neither of them owned, spending an income that flowed from my accounts, planning a life inside a bubble I could burst with a single phone call.

Her confidence was total.

It was also borrowed, every ounce of it, from a man who had borrowed it in turn from me.