“Freckles? That’s just ruthless, isn’t it?”

“Merciless. No woman that beautiful should also have freckles.” Zach laughed mirthlessly. “She would lie across my lap in the evenings and read her obscure Welsh poets while I worked on a manuscript. Once she fell asleep on my lap. I used my red pen to connect all the freckles on her lower back. She was livid. We laughed for days about it.”

“You had a good marriage. What happened?”

Zach stared at Nora. She sat two feet away from him but it seemed an ocean of truth and lies and memories lay between them. He held out his shot glass. She refilled it with a shaky hand. Zach drank the whiskey and enjoyed the burn all the way down.

“This is a terrible game.” He closed his eyes and leaned back against the chair.

“I know a better one.”

Something in Nora’s voice sobered him up momentarily. He opened his eyes and Nora now sat even closer to him. She had something behind her back.

Zach reached out and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. He raised his hand to her hair, pulled the ink pens out and watched the dark curls fall around her face.

“How long has it been?” Nora asked, her voice soft and insinuating.

“Thirteen months.” He didn’t have to ask what Nora meant by her question. He didn’t have to think before he answered it.

“How long’s it been for Grace?”

Zach took a hard breath.

“Less than thirteen months. Friday…she emailed me. Bill questions, addresses, all sorts of marital flotsam. She casually mentioned some bloke named Ian.”

Nora winced.

“How casually?”

“Not casually enough for me to not picture them in bed together. It’s my own fault. When we decided there was a chance our marriage was going to work—we made each other promise no secrets and no lies. I told her I could get over anything, even straying, as long as she didn’t lie to me about it. I hate lying more than anything.” Zach shook his head. “Here we are eight months separated and she still can’t lie to me about anything, damn that girl.”

Zach looked at Nora and saw something flash across her eyes, some secret worry of her own.

“I’m sorry,” Nora said and Zach could tell she meant it. Zach ran a single finger over Nora’s forehead and down her face. With his thumb he caressed her full bottom lip.

“Thank you. So what’s the new game? This one’s about to drive me to quit drinking.”

“Perish the thought. Ever played ‘I’ve never’?”

“I’ve never played I’ve never.” Zach knew he was as drunk now as he’d been in a long time.

“Fun game. Very easy. I say something I’ve never done, and if you’ve actually done it then you take a shot.”