“Well, this is the first time I’ve heard anything about it, so I’m afraid you’re going to have to power through,” I said curtly.

Nick had the good grace to look ashamed. “Right. Well, you’d kicked me out…”

“I did not kick you out, and I certainly wasn’t under the impression that we were on some kind of marital break,” I interrupted.

He held up his hands. “The point is, I was unraveling,” he said. “That quarrel dug up all my paranoia about every inside joke or every lunch or every conversation you and Freddie ever had, and whether it meant something deeper. I was scared that you’d married me because you felt you had to.” He clenched his fists, as if grabbing at the words. “So, yes. I came here without you on purpose. Out of selfishness. Annabelle wanted so badly for me to come. I knew she was flirting, but it made me feel chosen, somehow. Like I was someone’s top pick. When she was so delighted to see me, I couldn’t help myself. I flirted back.”

“That was a dick move,” I said.

Nick shuddered. “The shabbiest. All because my stupid ego wanted a bit of revenge. And then I drank too much. For liquid courage at first, I suppose, but then out of guilt because the flirting felt wrong, and cheap, and awful. Somehow my better sense prevailed the drunker I got,” he said. “So I decided to leave. I went up to my room to get my things, and Annabelle followed me and asked if I was absolutely sure.” He fidgeted. “I said yes. I gave her a hug goodbye, and she, er, tried again. I ran. Almost literally.”

“How exactly did she try?” I asked. “I think I have a right to know.”

A flush ran up Nick’s face. “She made me a very explicit offer.”

I stared up at the sky. The stars twinkled robustly. “Nick,” I said. “Do me a favor. The next time someone tries to bang you, please tell me about it.”

“I should have. I convinced myself that because I said no, and very much meant it, there was no need for me to rock the boat,” he said.

“Well, as a philosopher once told me, keeping secrets always makes the truth look like a smokescreen,” I said sarcastically. “Did I get that right?”

“I suppose I deserved that.”

“Yep.”

He searched my face. “Are you angry?”

“You bet,” I said. “This is messed up. Partly because I am mad at you, and I should be mad at you, but I also feel like I can’t be because of this tit-for-tat logic you just laid on me. Like you’re saying I brought this on myself.”