Lily kept on running, each step pounding into her ankles through the high heels of her shoes.

“Lily! What are you doing? Where are you going?”

Ahead of her Lily saw the main road and beyond it the green trees of the park. All she had to do was get to the park. If she could just get to the trees she might be able to breathe.

She felt a hand grab the top of her arm, felt Daniel’s fingers sink into her flesh, and imagined the quintet of small red circles they’d leave behind. “For God’s sake, Lil. You can’t just run away—we need to talk. You need to let me explain.”

His voice was raised, exasperated. Lily shook herself free and ran across the road, car horns trailing behind her. She stumbled forward into the park, Daniel close on her heels, calling her name.

Not sweetheart. Not darling. Just Lily.

She kept on running: past joggers, dog walkers, men in suits on mobile phones, women pushing strollers. She kept on running because while she ran, the world was a blur and she wasn’t yet ready to pull it into focus.

Ahead of her in the middle of the park was Belvedere Castle, like something out of a fairy tale. Lily ran toward it, up the steps, onto the terrace overlooking a lake, and found herself trapped with nowhere to run.

“I’m sorry, Lil. I’m sorry.”

She could feel the heat of Daniel’s breath on her cheek but didn’t turn to look at him.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please believe that. It’s the last thing I wanted to do.”

His words were muffled, as though her head were deep underwater and he was speaking to her from high above its surface.

“Shit, this is all such a mess. I was going to tell you, honestly. I was going to tell you soon.”

Lily wanted him to stop talking, wanted to tell him that she couldn’t bear to hear his voice because with every word he eroded any hope that this was all some dreadful misunderstanding.

“Say something, Lil. Please.”

She was aware of her nails digging into her palms: a sensation, not a feeling. There was no pain, just an understanding that it ought to hurt but didn’t, like the tugging of stitches under a local anesthetic. “How long?” She heard his hesitation in the silence, heard the clanking of scales as he weighed the pros and cons of telling her the truth.

“A year. Just over.”

Lily heard herself gasp, felt the shock rattle between her ribs. But still she felt nothing: just fractals of ice creeping up from her stomach and crystalizing around her heart. “But I asked you. I asked you explicitly on the phone three weeks ago. And you categorically denied it. You told me I was being silly.”

“I’m sorry. You caught me off guard. And I couldn’t tell you on the phone. But I don’t want to lie to you anymore.”