I didn’t know what to tell her. But if I could rewind that day, I don’t know what I’d say differently. She couldn’t or wouldn’t make things better with Dan. Maybe she had already diminished him in her mind. That reversal in perception so the man is viewed as less, as a glass half empty. It’s a spin on a dime that makes it impossible to see the person painted with the positivism of hope.

“He’s just not exciting. He doesn’t even see me anymore.”

A flare of goose bumps prickle my arm. “What happened to the two of you?” The question comes from my desire for permanent love and an intact family. It’s as if I already know that Stephen and I are condemned, although I didn’t.

But she doesn’t answer and we walk in silence. “You’re right. I’m going to really try to make things better with Dan. Buy some sexy lingerie. New perfume. Give him an hour blow job and see if that switches things.”

It only made things worse. Her attempts were not returned in kind. He simply rolled over exhausted and went to sleep, taking her attentions for granted. And the explosion occurred with Tom, the doctor.

“He understands me. He gets me. I mean, he comes from a—well, a poor family, too. His dad was an alcoholic and he only went to college because of a football scholarship. His dad thought college was a big waste of time.” She blinked her eyes closed and shook her head. “Like my mom. ‘Get a job.’” Juliet’s voice picked up her mom’s screechy tone. “‘What you gonna do with a college degree? Just walk around here with your nose in the air thinkin’ you better than the rest of us.’”

We were having coffee at the farmers’ market. “Look what he gave me.” She ran her forefinger under a gold chain around her neck. “When I wear this, I’m reminded of him.” Her eyes gleamed.

Two years later, after afternoon meetings in motels ringing the towns of Ann Arbor, afternoon gropes in the movie theater, and sudden meetings at the hospital, he rented an apartment. They furnished it together. She described the bed they bought and the Monet flowered quilt. A small couch and a TV. They even had pots and pans and plates and silverware.

“You furnished the kitchen? That wasn’t what I imagined.”

“Sometimes we cook for each other. But mostly we simply meet a few afternoons a week.” She blushed. “Dan never picked out anything with me. He said I could do it however I wanted it. But, Marnie, it’s so fun to do it with someone.” She grinned.

That was twelve years ago. And the affair became part of her routine.