Me: Where are you? There are two men at your front door and I have no idea if I should let them in.

I wait through more presses of the doorbell and more pounding, but Atlas doesn’t immediately text me back. I finally walk to the door and leave the chain bolted, but unlock the deadbolt and open the door a few inches.

One of the guys is tall, about six feet or so. Despite the youthful look to his face, his hair is salt and pepper. Black with a little bit of gray sprinkled in. The other one is shorter by a few inches, with sandy brown hair and a baby face. They both look to be in their late twenties, maybe early thirties. The tall one’s face twists into confusion. “Who are you?” he asks, peeking through the door.

“Lily. Who are you?”

The shorter one pushes in front of the taller one. “Is Atlas here?”

I don’t want to tell them no, because then they’ll know I’m here alone. I don’t necessarily hold much trust in the male population this week.

The phone in my hand rings and all three of us jump from the unexpectedness of it. It’s Atlas. I swipe the answer button and bring it to my ear.

“Hello?”

“It’s fine, Lily, they’re just friends of mine. I forgot it was Friday, we always play poker on Fridays. I’ll call them now and tell them to leave.”

I look back at the two of them and they’re just standing there, watching me. I feel bad that Atlas feels like he has to cancel his plans just because I’m crashing at his house. I shut the door and unlock the deadbolt, then open the door again, motioning them inside.

“It’s fine, Atlas. You don’t have to cancel your plans. I was about to go to bed anyway.”

“No, I’m on my way. I’ll have them leave.”

I still have the phone pressed to my ear when the two men enter the living room.

“See you soon,” I say to Atlas and then end the call. The next few seconds are awkward as the guys assess me and I assess them.

“What are your names?”

“I’m Darin,” the tall one says.

“Brad,” the shorter one says.

“Lily,” I say to them, even though I already told them my name. “Atlas will be here soon.” I move to close the door and they seem to relax a little. Darin heads into the kitchen and helps himself to Atlas’s refrigerator.

Brad takes off his jacket and hangs it up. “Do you know how to play poker, Lily?”

I shrug. “It’s been a few years, but I used to play with friends in college.”

Both of them walk toward the dining room table.

“What happened to your head?” Darin asks as he takes a seat. He asks it so casually, like it doesn’t even cross his mind that it might be a sensitive subject.

I don’t know why I have an urge to give him the naked truth. Maybe I just want to see how someone will react when they find out my own husband did this to me.