He leaned forward and kissed me, and I kissed him back. He lifted up my shirt, his tongue tickling my stomach and fingers unclasping my bra. His lips sought my nipple, found it, knew exactly what to do. I was lost in my desire with no way out.

Pulling my legs up under him, Grant climbed on top of me, tearing at the fabric that separated us. My legs instinctively circled his waist, drawing him into me. I wanted his flesh touching mine, his sweat soaking my skin, his weight pressing me. As we ripped each other’s clothes off, a small voice in the back of my brain warned me to stop, saying we couldn’t ever come back from this, that it would destroy everything and everyone I loved. The voice filled me up with warnings: There is no return, it said. No return . . .

And then I shut the little voice up.

Chapter 14

Mackenzie

TUESDAY

I drove with the windows down, wind teasing my hair back to the 1980s, as I pulled into my lily-white suburban neighborhood. I unstuck a clump of blond strands from my lip gloss and admired the manicured lawns and power-walking moms. Owen and I had been house-hunting for months when we found it. Well, until Robin talked it up so much it was either stick an ice pick in my ears or drop in on the open house. She was right; it was perfect. Everything about the neighborhood, from the gated entry to the fenced-in playground to the lifeguarded community pool, felt safe and secure from drive-by shootings and home invasions and gangs roaming the inner-city streets.

How naïve I had been. Because shadowy horrors lurked among us in our glass houses. There was no escaping them, even among friends. Even among spouses.

The trunk was full of this week’s groceries, meals planned like each week before. I was supposed to be gone by now, unreachable, untouchable. But instead I was going through the motions as if nothing had changed, as if the plan had simply been a dream. It was no one’s fault but my own. I had my chance and blew it.

My cul-de-sac was one right turn up ahead, but I slowed down to a crawl. I hadn’t felt like facing Owen since Sunday night; he knew my tells by heart, and I wasn’t ready to, well, tell.