“Something good, judging from the smile on your face.” He sat down opposite her. “I was surprised to get your message. I didn’t think you’d ever speak to me again after the other night.”

She didn’t know quite what reaction she’d expected from him, but it wasn’t that.

“What? You think I don’t know when I’ve been an idiot?” He put his phone and car keys down on the table. “I have a lot to apologize for, so do you want to go first or shall I?”

“You—you want to apologize?”

“Want to apologize?” Richard gave a faint smile. “No. I hate admitting I’m wrong, you know that. But do I need to? Yes. But first I need coffee. Can I get you another?”

She hadn’t finished the one sitting in front of her, but she nodded, mute, and he stood up and ordered at the counter and then sat back down again.

“I suppose I should start with the other night. I didn’t expect to see Nicole. It was a shock. And I know that doesn’t excuse anything—” he lifted a hand before she could say anything “—but it brought back a lot of emotions, stresses—”

“Because she confronted you and made you choose.”

“No. Well, yes, I suppose there’s some of that in there, but mostly because I felt terrible at the time, and seeing her brought it all back.”

“You felt terrible?”

“Yes. I already felt terrible about what I was doing, and she made me feel worse, and rightly so. I behaved badly. And I knew it. I was conflicted.” He paused while their coffees were delivered. “I loved you, Milly. Maybe you don’t believe that, but I did. I loved our life. I didn’t intentionally look for anyone else. But when I met Avery at those yoga classes . . .” He shook his head. “I don’t know. It just felt—it was powerful.”

Milly never would have thought she could have sat still and listened to him talk like this, but here she was, listening, and it didn’t feel as hard as she’d thought it would. Something had changed. She’d changed.

“So you cheated on me.”

“And I regret that every day.” His cheeks were flushed. “I should have done the brave thing and told you right away that I was having doubts, that I’d met someone. Maybe we could have worked it through. I don’t know.”

Milly sighed. “Richard, this is history now—”

“Not really, because it’s always between us. In every conversation you’re hurt and punishing me, and I’m defensive and snappy and behaving like an idiot because I’m eaten up with guilt.”

Was she punishing him? Yes, she probably was.

Bringing the past into the present, as her mother would say.

“That’s why you’ve been behaving the way you have? You feel guilty?”