“My heart.” This was oddly fun. “Well, you can have him, Karen. In sickness and in health.” I took a bite of Caro’s cake. “Tell me, what makes a woman go after a married man? Don’t you have any morals?”

“I am a good Christian woman,” she said, huffing.

Caro and I looked at each other and laughed. “Isn’t there a tiny commandment about adultery?” Caro asked.

“You know, Caro, I think there is. I’m sure of it.”

“This is different,” Karen said.

“How so, dear?” I asked.

She glanced around. That hair was not only unnatural in color, it didn’t move a bit when she turned her head. Helmet hair, my girls would call it. “Look. I’m sorry he doesn’t love you anymore. But we didn’t plan this. It just happened.”

“So . . . you fell into a deep sleep and when you woke up, you were screwing another woman’s husband?” Caro asked.

“No! We . . . we ran into each other at a treadmill class last spring.”

I rolled my eyes. Just when you thought it couldn’t get worse. “You had to take a class to learn how to walk on a treadmill?”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“And then what happened, angel kitten?”

“We remembered each other. We got a carrot juice at the juice bar. We just . . . clicked. We ended up talking for hours. It was amazing.”

“No, it wasn’t,” I said. “It was inappropriate and dishonest. He’s married. Which you well knew. What God has put together, let no one put asunder, good Christian woman.”

“I’m telling you, it wasn’t like we planned to have an affair. It was just juice at first. But I started to look forward to it. He’s so . . . wonderful. A brilliant man.” Caro snorted. “The chemistry was undeniable. And you didn’t even notice.” She straightened her shoulders a bit, and her sternum bones showed even more.

She did have a point. I hadn’t noticed. Last spring, Sloane had appendicitis, and I stayed with Juliet for four nights and played board games with Brianna and cooked for the family. I’d also been doing the job Stoningham’s residents had elected me to do.

“How long did it take for these juice dates to lead to adultery?” I asked.

“About a week.” She smirked, obviously proud of herself.

The words hit me in the heart like a hammer shattering glass.

A week. That’s how much time and consideration he gave our marriage. Our vows. Our five decades together.

One goddamn week.

“The attraction was just so strong,” she said, raising her penciled eyebrows at me. “I’m not that type of girl—”

“You haven’t been a girl in sixty years,” Caro said.