At the same time, how like all husbands Philip seemed. Sure, he had too much money, too many houses, a driver who was his and his alone; he had his art collection, his wine cellar, his numerous business ventures (many that were mysterious), but underneath it all, he was just another husband afraid of his wife.

It was what endeared him to me.

“In her defense, she warned me. She did. Early on, after I proposed and she accepted, she said, while crying and smiling both, ‘You do realize, Philip, that there are no brakes on this car.’ ”

He paused to check the traffic. Other cars were honking now, as if it would do any good.

“I was given fair warning, right? And it’s what I love about her—the impulsiveness, the surprises. Even though some of the surprises lately—”

“You mean the dress?”

“Yes, the dress.”

“It’s beautiful. It must have been expensive.”

“It’s not the money. Please, that’s not it at all.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s that it was—it is—her wedding dress.”

I wasn’t sure if I heard him right.

“Tell me, Kate, why would she give away her wedding dress?”

I didn’t know what to say. Then Philip laughed the laugh of a rich, confused man. “She’s funny,” he kept saying. “She’s very funny.”

I didn’t say anything. I let him trail off. We were both quiet as Ray Charles crooned.