I tried to slow the boil of suspicion building inside me. Maybe he’d come down with a cold, gone home, and passed out from NyQuil on the couch. Or had a doctor’s appointment he hadn’t told me about and took the rest of the day off.

Or maybe he was cheating on me.

I parked on the street. I was panicked at the thought of Paul—that balding head of his, those age spots on his arms—with another woman. In our house.

No. There was no fucking way I was going to end up like Jacqueline. I wasn’t going to sit around and let that happen right under my nose.

But if that bastard was...

I didn’t even bother with an umbrella. I was a stumbling wet mess as I walked to the front. We never came in the front door, only visitors, but I fished out my key and flung open that door.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Kendra

I heard female laughter from the back of the house. In the living room, Paul’s suit jacket was tossed on the couch. The People’s Court was on the television, and the bagged lunch I’d made him last night was spread out on the coffee table like a crime scene. Thin bits of crumpled white bread. The tops of strawberries staining a napkin red.

I heard the deep tenor of his voice rise into a question. The woman answered. I barreled forward, slinging open the French doors.

And there were Theresa and Paul standing in my kitchen. She was wearing a dark green raincoat, her umbrella dripping on the back door mat. Paul was still in his dress shirt, tie loosened around his neck. But the look on his face was as if I’d caught him bare-assed, bending her over the counter.

“What the hell is this?” I asked.

“Kendra. You startled me.” Theresa’s smile dwindled. Her red hair was pulled back, but small tendrils curled around her ears from the humidity.

“You’re home early,” Paul said brightly. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“So are you,” I said pointedly. “Having lots of fun, I see.”

Theresa blinked. “Oh no. I just stopped by to drop off the money I owed you for the trick-or-treat candy.” She backed up, checked the clock on the wall. “I interrupted poor Paul’s lunch. And then it started pouring.” She glanced out the window. “But I think there’s a break in the rain now, so I should go.”

She grabbed her soggy umbrella and skittered out the back door like a cockroach.

“What are you doing home?” I asked him as soon as she disappeared.

“What was that all about?” He gestured. “You swooped in here like you were about to stab us all.”

“I’m sorry. I guess I was just surprised that you lied to me about all those work meetings you had today.”