She eased down onto one of the rocking chairs and closed her eyes. “A little smoke can’t be any worse for me than these painkillers,” she said. “I feel like a zombie.”

“If the doctor says to take them, it’s okay, right?”

Vanessa opened her eyes and sat up. “Arch and Nick,” she said.

“What about them?”

“They’re . . . God, I can’t even say it.”

I couldn’t look at her.

“You didn’t know?” she asked.

The thought had occurred to me. The way they looked at each other, how they were often huddled together, laughing. I had assumed the suspicion I’d felt was just jealousy for the old rapport I’d never quite recovered since my return.

The silence seemed to go on forever. I lit another cigarette, took a deep drag, watched and waited for the smoke to dissipate before I spoke.

“How do you feel about that?” I asked.

“How would you feel about it?”

“I wouldn’t stand for it.”

“Really?” she asked. “What would you do?”

“I’d tell him to end it,” I said. “Or else.”

“Should I have said that to Arch when the two of you were always running off for the weekend together all those years ago?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said.

“You think I didn’t notice the way you looked at him?” she said. “You were so in love with him. It would have been embarrassing if it wasn’t so heartbreakingly sweet.”

I didn’t know how to respond. There was no point in denying it; she wouldn’t have believed me anyway.

“We were kids. We didn’t know what we were doing. It was a phase, like puberty,” I said. “I thought maybe he’d outgrown that part of himself.”

“You don’t outgrow it, Charlie.”

“I did.”

“You’re different. You aren’t gay. It was just Arch for you.”

“Do the two of you have some sort of arrangement?”

“No. I just look the other way, and he behaves as if he doesn’t know that I know. It’s not that unusual. People have lived like this for centuries.”

“Only because they had to. And you don’t. Neither does he.”

“He does to have the things he wants.”

“What about what you want?”

“Love isn’t just about sex, Charlie. And marriage isn’t just about love. Besides, as you well know, I have secrets of my own.”

I tried to think of something else to talk about. Nothing came to mind.

Vanessa pointed at my cigarette. “Give me one,” she said.

“You shouldn’t.”

“Please, Charlie. You’re not my doctor.”

I gave her a cigarette, and we sat and smoked together. When we were finished, she went back up to the bedroom.

I found her sleeping soundly when I went in. I did not allow myself to watch her for more than a moment; my heart could not bear it.