“That sounds like a cop-out.”

“Have you ever been in a long-term relationship?”

Kai reaches for his water. “Six years.”

Six years. A lot longer than I expected. “Did you ever live together?”

“Nearly all six years.”

“Were you ever unfaithful?”

He’s not wearing his sunglasses, but his blue eyes reveal nothing, his expression just as blank. “Why?”

“I’m curious.”

“Was your husband unfaithful?”

“Yes.”

Kai tips back his chair. “How did you find out?”

“E-mail.” I smooth the napkin flat on my lap. When I found all the e-mails, Daniel was livid. He wanted to know what I was doing going through his computer, searching his things, and I told him I didn’t know. His computer was on. His Outlook program open.

“You went on his computer?” Kai asks.

I nod. I honestly didn’t think I’d find anything. I knew Daniel and I had had problems, but it didn’t cross my mind that he’d cheat. True, we didn’t have much of a sex life anymore, but he was so tired all the time and his travel schedule was truly grueling, and when he was home he was coaching William’s baseball team or Jessica’s soccer team. Daniel loved the kids, that much was certain.

The part where he loved me… less certain. But an affair?

Daniel still says Marissa wasn’t his mistress, just a good friend, and perhaps she was just his good friend, but she was getting attention from him that I wasn’t.

Our waitress approaches with our beer. Kai thanks her and waits for her to leave. “Did you confront him?” he asks me.

I can still remember how terrifyingly cold I felt when I first discovered his relationship with Melinda back then. Everything in me went numb. “Eventually.” I hate talking about this. It’s been two years, but it still makes me feel sick inside. “Once I calmed down. At first I didn’t know what to do, what to think. I was so upset.”

“What did he say when you confronted him?”

I shrug. “That he didn’t love her, he loved me. That Melinda had blown their friendship into something more than it was, into more than it’d ever be.”

“So you divorced?”

“No. I forgave him and we moved on.”

“But you’re divorced now.”

I say nothing, just look out at the water where the setting sun has turned the surface a sparkling bronze.

I know now I didn’t move on. All I did was shut down.

Shut down, shut off, shut away inside myself so only the external Jackie remained—smooth, glossy, polished interior designer turned corporate wife.

Eleven years. Two kids (never mind the two miscarriages). The vacation house in Palm Springs. The annual ski trip to Vail, even though I don’t ski. But the kids do—thank God—and Daniel does.

Daniel.