“I remember now. He ran into the house and told me he’d been shot at. He told me it was you. Well, what he said was: ‘That fucking maniac husband of yours just tried to kill me.’ I told him he had to be imagining things, that if you wanted him dead, he’d be dead.”

“You’d think after all my experience that would have been the case.” Two more glasses of wine were placed on the table. He raised his to his lips. “He definitely wasn’t imagining anything. I took the miss as a sign. I left.”

My heart was thumping. “After he came and told me what happened, I went outside to look. I didn’t see or hear anything. Not a rustle, not any kind of movement.”

“I’m a pro, honey, although at the time I sure didn’t feel like one. I was so pissed that when I got back, I dismantled the gun and furnaced the parts.” A pause. “The end of an era.” He finished the wine, then pushed it away. “Don’t let me have any more.”

A moment later, our dinner had arrived. On his plate were four chicken breasts and steamed broccoli. He said, “Dig in.”

My dish was something cheesy and saucy. The smell made me sick to my stomach. Chris was unperturbed. He sliced a grilled chicken breast into neat little rows, speared the meat, and placed it into his mouth. He had never been much of a foodie. His meals consisted of hamburger, chicken, steak, French fries, pasta, the occasional salad, and green beans. The broccoli on his plate was a first in my memory. I picked up my water glass and sipped.

“Want any of this?” he asked, pointing to his plate.

“I’m fine. You want any of mine?”

“Nah, it looks a little … white.”

“It does.” I played with the strings of mozzarella.

“Not hungry?”

“I’m fine.” I ate a bit just to prove it to him. “Good.”

“There’s no punishment if you don’t clean your plate.” He regarded my face. I’m sure I looked as shaken as I felt. “Stop fretting. There won’t be a repeat. You don’t have to worry.”

I put down my fork. “Whatever Devek is, he’s the father of my children.”

“I know that too well.” He pushed my wineglass toward me. “You’re pale. Have a sip.”

I did as he ordered and watched him eat. Finally, I said, “You never came back to India?”

“Nope. I hired people to look after you, to make sure you were okay. But that place is nothing but bad memories.”

“I agree with you there.” I paused. “I’m sure that’s cold comfort.”