Was he wondering what his life would have been like if Hannah had lived, if they’d gone on to spend their lives together, the years spooling out in front of them? Was he picturing what their children would have looked like? Or was he imagining a glamorous, child-free life with a woman who was certainly far more dazzling than I would ever be? Did he think Hannah would have been a more fulfilling partner in all the ways that matter—practically, emotionally, sexually?

Was Hannah the real love of James’s life?

Somewhere between West Palm Beach and Fort Lauderdale, I realized that my cheeks were wet with tears.

My rational mind knew it was unfair to harbor these thoughts: James had always been a loving and attentive husband. I’d listened to friends complain about husbands who never made an effort, who spent their weekends playing golf or watching football, who never even bothered to make a dinner reservation on their anniversary or bring home flowers. James had never been like that. He was devoted to his career, for sure, but in his off hours, he was always happiest being around Paige and me. And he was one of the most thoughtful people I’d ever met. Dinner reservations were always made, flowers were always sent, and Paige always felt loved and supported, too. Sure, we disagreed every once in a while, but he had never really given me anything to complain about.

Except that now, I was left wondering if my seemingly perfect marriage had been based upon a misconception. I knew James loved me. But what if after all this time, I was still just the runner-up? The one James had settled for because he couldn’t be with the woman of his dreams?

I had plugged the address of Diana’s store into my phone. Just as I was hitting a heavy stream of traffic into Miami, it began giving me instructions to get off the highway and make turns onto one sun-bleached street after another. When I arrived at my destination, I saw a quaint storefront with pink-and-green-striped awnings, and a vintage-looking sign proclaiming The Pink Tortoise. I parked in the small lot and went inside.

The store featured lots of women’s resort wear—brightly colored caftans, airy sundresses, expensive swimsuits. I wandered slowly to the other half of the store, which focused on home décor, also with a tropical theme. Throw pillows embroidered with the names of exotic vacation destinations, festive table linens, and decorative tchotchkes were arranged meticulously on white lacquered display tables. I picked up a small silver nut bowl shaped like a seashell and looked at the price: $245. I put it back down.