“I know now that I never fully gave myself to that idea. There was always a part of me that held back. At first I didn’t know why. I found out. It was something I couldn’t control. It held back and even acted up on the day we got married. I wanted to marry you more than I’ve ever wanted to do anything, and I’ve never, ever regretted it—although you have—but it was there that day, something repugnant and calculating. Do you know what it is to really hate yourself? To know that a part of you is willing to throw away everything of value and behave in an absolutely uncontrolled way? I did everything with those men, men I never saw before. That’s why I want to hear that you didn’t hold back with Anne. I don’t want to know that you saved anything that belonged to us.”

“That’s the same as being punched, isn’t it?”

She looked up. “Yes.” He waited for more. She searched his eyes. She asked, “Did you?”

“You really can’t control yourself, can you?”

She shook her head. Her face was blotching; he thought that she was going to be sick. “I loved her, Karen. There are times when I wish she had become pregnant. I wouldn’t have hesitated, then.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That wasn’t what you wanted to hear. Now try to put the whole thing out of your mind. Forget it. Don’t ask again.”

She stayed quiet. Then, “When we first met I was full of dreams about what my adult life was going to be like. They weren’t clear, but I was going to be in the world, valuable, not necessarily important, but valuable. People were going to be pleased that I was doing my job, whatever it was, and they were going to be grateful. That was what growing up meant to me. It didn’t change because I met you. You were filled with the same dreams—but they were better founded. You didn’t plan on things happening to you. When they did, you were sensible enough to react to them. You did what you had to.”

“I remember. I remember how you carried the ball after the night Krolevich was killed. I needed it. But I never had any idea of what you needed.”

“Don’t start that, Joe. I didn’t know myself. I do know myself now, better than I did then. I could disgust you with the things I think.”

“Like what? Go ahead and say them.”

“Like I’ve taken to wondering whether you were ever faithful to me.”

“I was.”

“But things happened in Europe,” she said.

“We’ve discussed that.”

“Not really—”

“You know enough. That’s the way I want to keep it.”