I’d never been to Harry’s house before, never driven past it, even in the early days. I’d been too scared, for one thing, worried I’d be seen and he’d think I was stalking him. And then after I knew I loved him, I didn’t want to go near, to see the life he lived with another woman. Now I was nervous but determined to take the risk. I glanced around. The road was lined with chestnut trees and his house was large, about thirty years old, and separated from the sidewalk by a large lawn.

When I saw there was a light in their hallway, I put my foot down and drove quickly to the end of the road. I stopped there for a while, my heart beating fast. He was inside; I could knock if I wanted to, and I’d see him. I’d be able to ask him what had happened, where he’d gone to. And then I thought of his wife, Emma, standing behind him. I could picture her now, giving me that sassy stare. My stomach clenched as I thought of her saying, Who is it, darling? What would he reply? Suddenly I realized I didn’t know what he’d say. What he’d do. Would he embrace me or deny he knew who I was?

It was a quiet neighborhood and no one was around. I started my car and slowly drove past their house again. And then I realized. Her car was there: a little red Mini that I’d seen her in one day when she picked him up from work. His wasn’t there. I knew it wouldn’t be in their garage; we’d talked one day about how everyone just filled their garages with junk.

I turned the car round and stopped just short of his house. It looked as though she was at home, perhaps in the kitchen at the back. Then it dawned on me. She was at home. He was out. Had he come to see me? Had he left her?

Quickly I drove to the end of his street and turned onto the main road. My heart was almost in my mouth as I raced back to the hotel. I parked in the first space I saw and ran into the lobby. The receptionist looked up at me and smiled. She started to greet me, but I dashed into the elevator. I hadn’t a moment to spare. I grabbed my key card from my pocket and swiped it until I could open the door.

No one was there. I stood in the room, sweating and panting, my heart racing and my mind in a whirl. Where was he?

I looked everywhere for a message, some sign he’d been there, but there was nothing.