This wasn’t strictly true. Although revenge hadn’t been foremost in her mind, she couldn’t deny that she’d taken a good deal of satisfaction from having attracted someone so soon after leaving Max. But it had been more than that. Paul’s hands on her body had felt cleansing; Annie had flirted and gotten high with and kissed a relative stranger, and he’d been only too happy to oblige.

Annie realized Max was still looking down at her. His big eyes were bright with hurt and, to her surprise, smoldering. Annie realized with horror that she had unintentionally made herself more desirable to her husband than ever before. Oh, shit! thought Annie. Now there’ll be double wooing.

“I’ve brought you something,” said Max. His voice was low, gentle yet coaxing. Annie knew this voice. She knew all his voices.

“Divorce papers?” she asked. “Access to my own bank accounts?”

Max flinched. If they gave out awards for looking hurt after behaving like a bastard, Max would win, hands—and pants—down.

Max opened the passenger door and pulled out a wicker cat basket. A hissing sound came from inside. Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle pressed her ginger face against the barred door. She looked severely pissed off.

“Tiggs!” cried Annie.

Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle let out a mournful meow.

“I thought you might like some company,” said Max. “She was always more your cat than mine.”

Annie took the basket from Max. “Thank you, Max.”

“I brought her litter box and a few packets of her favorite food. I wasn’t sure if there were any shops nearby.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“Shall I help you in with these things?” asked Max.

“No, thank you,” said Annie. “If you could carry the bags to the steps, I can take it from there.”

“It’s no bother,” said Max, pulling three large shopping bags out of the back seat of his car.

“I’m sure it isn’t. But as we’ve already discussed, I haven’t been home all night. I’d like to get in and get cleaned up. But thank you for the offer.”

Annie didn’t want him in her house. This was her place. Unsullied by Max in any way. Uncharacteristically, Max didn’t push it. He followed Annie through the little gate, along the garden path, and up the steps at the front door, stopping three steps lower than Annie.

“It’s a lovely spot,” said Max.

“Yes, it is,” said Annie. “I like it very much.”

“You’ll be bored,” said Max. “I know you.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” said Annie.

“I want you back,” said Max.

Annie pulled the keys out of her handbag and set about unlocking the various deadbolts, determinedly ignoring Max’s comment. She pushed the door open and felt, rather than saw, Max crane his neck to see past her.