Chapter 3

"She works hard."

"She'll be home soon."

I said it for four years.

Now I knew how much care she'd put into her other home.

Near an intersection, I said, "You can drop me off up ahead."

Anna glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "It's pouring. I'll take you to your building."

"No, thanks. I can walk."

She pulled over. I opened the door, letting in the roar of rain.

Gabriel turned around. "Oh, Mr. Reinhardt, let's connect on the app.

"In case anything comes up with Milo at preschool."

He pulled out his phone, smiling.

Anna's eyes met mine in the mirror. Her hard stare felt like a warning.

I looked away. "Sure."

I searched Gabriel's username on the messaging app.

His profile picture showed Anna holding Milo in the sun, Gabriel's arms around her. All three were smiling.

I stared for two seconds, then tapped Add.

Gabriel waved. "See you tomorrow."

I stepped into the rain and opened my umbrella.

The car pulled away, its taillights blurring into two red spots.

I watched for a long time, until my phone buzzed again.

Anna had texted.

[Wait for me at home.]

***

My wet shoes dripped onto the floor when I got home.

Anna's slippers sat where they always had.

I'd pictured her walking through that door so many times.

She'd slip them on and hug me. "Riley, I'm home."

We'd finally have our wedding, take wedding photos, share breakfast, and come home together in the rain.

Those thoughts had gotten me through so many nights.

Today, I learned she could've come home all along.

She'd chosen not to.

I tossed the slippers in the trash and sat on the couch.

Some time later, the lock clicked. Anna walked in, still damp, carrying soup from my favorite place under her coat.

"Skipped dinner again? How many times do I have to remind you to eat?"

She set the chicken soup on the table, sounding like a wife coming home from work.

But she wasn't.

"Aren't you worried Gabriel will find out you're here?"

Her face tightened. "Can we leave him out of this?"

I let out a short laugh. "Why?

"You spent four years lying to me and building a family with someone else.

"What else is there to talk about?"

Anna stood across the coffee table, silent.

Outside, the rain kept falling. It felt like I'd been stuck in that downpour for four years.

I was tired. "Anna, since you're here, let's talk divorce."

Her head snapped up. "I'm not getting divorced."

"So which one of us is supposed to be the side piece?"

The room went quiet again.

I'd rarely pushed Anna like this.

She was busy. I understood.

She couldn't come home. I waited.

She was sorry. I said it was okay.