“It’s our anniversary. This is a celebration. You’re worried I’m doing too much? It’s fine, David. I like to do it. It’s not a problem.”

She reached across the table but he moved his hand away.

“It’s a problem for me, Grace.”

“Why? You’re busy, and I love spoiling you.”

“You make me feel…” He rubbed his jaw. “Incapable. Sometimes I wonder if you even need me.”

Her insides swooped. She felt as if she’d stepped off a cliff. “How can you say that? You know it’s not true.”

“Do I? You plan every detail of our lives. You are the most independent woman I know. What exactly do I contribute to this marriage?”

At any other time she would have said great sex, and they both would have collapsed with laughter, but tonight David wasn’t laughing and she didn’t feel like laughing either.

The people at the table closest to them were staring.

Grace didn’t care.

“You contribute plenty! David—”

“We have to talk, Grace.” He pushed his plate to one side, his meal only half-eaten. “I wasn’t going to say this tonight, but—”

“But what? What do you want to talk about?” Unease mushroomed inside her. He didn’t sound like himself. David was always sure, confident and dependable. She almost always knew what he was thinking. “Why do you keep rubbing your jaw?”

“Because it aches.”

“You should see the dentist. Maybe you have an abscess or something. I’ll make you an appointment in the morning—” She stopped in midsentence. “Or you can make it yourself if you prefer.”

“I want a divorce, Grace.”

There was a strange ringing in her ears. The background music and the clatter from the kitchen had distorted his words. He couldn’t possibly have just said what she’d thought he said.

“Excuse me?”

“A divorce.” He tugged at the collar of his shirt as if it was strangling him. “Saying those words makes me feel sick. I never wanted to hurt you, Gracie.”

She hadn’t misheard him.

“Is this because I bought Stephen a gift?”

“No.” He muttered something and tugged at his collar again. “I shouldn’t be doing this now. I didn’t plan to. I should have—”

“Is it because of Sophie leaving? I know it’s unsettling…”

Panic gripped her heart. Squeezed. Squeezed some more. Her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. She was going to pass out in her duck confit. She imagined the story appearing in the following day’s edition of the Woodbrook Post.

A local woman was asphyxiated when she fell face-first into her meal.

“It’s not because of Sophie. It’s us. Things haven’t been right for a while.”

There was something in David’s eyes she’d never seen before.

Pity. Yes, there was sadness, and also guilt, but it was the pity that tore her to shreds.

This was David. Her David—who had cried on their wedding day because he loved her so much, who had held her while their daughter fought her way into the world and been there for Grace through thick and thin. David, her best friend and the only person who truly knew her.