But then she said, “Go to Fifth and Seventy-Second. We’ll get out there.”

As we walked through Central Park, the air was frigid, and I could see my breath with each exhale. After the initial shock of the air’s chill, though, I no longer felt any physical discomfort. It was as if my entire body was bracing for the deathblow I knew Lauren would deliver.

“Let’s sit at the duck pond,” Lauren said.

The body of water before us didn’t look much like a pond. It was clearly made out of cement, and the water was less than a few inches deep at the edges. Bits of ice floated on top, and there was not a single duck in sight.

Benches lined the western side of the pond. As soon as we reached the first one, she sat down, leaving me ample room to sit beside her without touching.

There was no one else in sight. That was hardly a surprise, given the weather and the late hour. I knew Lauren had chosen the venue for just that reason. Speaking at a Starbucks in her neighborhood ran the risk of being seen by someone who might report back to her husband.

“Did you ever read Catcher in the Rye?”

The question was so random that I almost thought I imagined it.

“What?”

“The book Catcher in the Rye. By J. D. Salinger?”

“Yeah, I read it in high school.”

“Remember when Holden Caulfield asks, ‘Where do the ducks go in the winter?’ It’s supposedly some great existential question. In the scene, he’s actually here. I think it’s summertime, though. And as you see, the ducks aren’t here in the winter.”

“I don’t care where the ducks go, Lauren.”

“Right,” she said.

I reached for her hand. She grasped it, and then a moment later pulled away.

My heart burst. It truly felt that way. As if I could feel it shatter in my chest.

“I love you,” I said. “I love you so much, Lauren.” I was crying now, begging for her not to leave me.

But somehow, my declaration of love seemed to have the opposite of my intended effect. She stiffened and look at me coldly.

“You say that like it matters,” she said. Her tone was angry, as if I were ending it with her, rather than the other way around.

“It’s all that matters, Lauren.”

“Really? Are you going to divorce Stuart to be with me? Are we going to get married and raise Jacob, like a real family? Do you see that as a possible future? And what about work? You think McKenney is going to let us work together and be together? That’s never going to happen.”