She went on long walks by herself. She’d go out with barely a word—“I’ll be back in a little bit, Henry”—and he’d sit around the house, feeling anxious, until he decided to go for a walk himself. He’d wander the town, hoping to run into her. He’d sit on the cold beach and watch the waves. At dusk he’d make his way back to the cottage, hoping Effie would be there—that he would see, with satisfaction, an edge of anxiety on her face as she asked him where he’d been. But she’d either still be out, or she’d be in the kitchen making supper already. When he said hello, she gave him a feeble smile, and that was all.

All this time he felt an acid chill in his stomach, and as he wandered the town, he recited arguments to himself. He was a man, wasn’t he? What did Effie expect? If she thought he was the first husband to cheat on his wife, she was a fool. In fact it was likely that every husband cheated on his wife at some time or another—it might be argued that such a devotion to one person was not, in fact, what nature had intended, for either men or women, but especially for men, who, from the dawn of time, had been used to wandering. In every man’s heart, from the town drunk’s to the mayor’s, even in the reverend’s heart, there was the memory of an affair—he would bet on it. The abandonment of reason to desire. Vividly, intensely carnal: the thoughts would rise up and take over. There was no stopping them.

She’d been spoiled, that was the problem. She was a little princess, doted on by her father, made to believe in fairy tales.

But that wasn’t fair, he thought the next moment. She wasn’t at fault. He was the monster. He’d broken her heart, and he deserved whatever she gave him.

Or neither of them had been at fault—that was more true, maybe. It was Clara, Max, and Alma, who had swept them up into their drama and confused them. It had nothing to do with their love for each other. They had temporarily lost their minds, but soon they would go back to normal again.

Tuesday afternoon the sky was dark, the clouds a featureless steel gray, and the wind was so strong and cold that Effie, relenting at last, closed the windows. To Henry’s surprise, she asked if he wanted to go with her to see the waves.