Dave wanted to move on with his life and his wife. Put this affair behind them and go back to whatever their marriage had been before—or at least, whatever Dave had believed it to be before.

Eileen could understand wanting that. She had three very good reasons to consider doing exactly that herself.

Her phone buzzed, and Eileen turned it over to see the screen. It was Simon.

Same goes for you. Hope everything is okay. You’ll make the right decision either way.

She turned her phone back over and placed her palm on top of it. The right decision. Eileen sighed; what did that mean? She tried to imagine these choices: staying and pretending; storming out the door; screaming at Eric in a fury of rage and horror and hurt.

How could he do this to her? To their family? And not once, not some drunken, one-off mistake that he confessed to Eileen from his fucking knees with promises to never, ever let it happen again. No, he and Lauren were in a relationship. She made herself say the words out loud, so they hurt exactly as much as they should. “Your husband is in a relationship with another woman.” She closed her eyes and saw them together, naked and alone. When she had shown Simon the pictures, his observation had gutted her.

I don’t say this to hurt you more, it’s just, that look of adoration on his face.

Had Eric ever looked at her that way? When they first met? When he slipped an engagement ring on her finger? No, she didn’t think so. Not the day they got married and not even after she gave birth to their three children.

It wasn’t just about her anymore. What would her kids think if she left their father? What would they think if she didn’t?

“What would you think, Eileen?” she whispered to herself. Always knowing, never trusting, forever suspecting that every business call, late night, and out-of-town trip was only an excuse for him to be with Lauren.

Eric was going to come upstairs any minute. She could undress, wash her face, brush her teeth, and get into bed. She could pretend she didn’t know anything and that nothing had changed.

Or she could not.

The question was the outcome. Which version of herself did she imagine being tomorrow morning? Next week? Six months from now?

Ten years?

She could hear Eric’s footsteps on the stairs. She stood up. In the moment and pressed for time, Eileen found that her instincts took over.

Eric walked into the bedroom with a smile. “What’s all this?” he asked as he moved closer and looked at her standing next to the bed.

She said nothing. She just waited.