Shannon, a young woman he’d dated briefly last year, had tried to make the place homier by adding personalized touches, like photos of the two of them in places they’d traveled. Keith asked her to remove them, the first argument in their ostensible relationship, which led to a discussion about their future and their inevitable dissolution. Keith had already had a picture-perfect family and lost it; he didn’t expect a second chance, at least not with someone new.

For reasons he didn’t want to explain to Shannon or Courtney or anyone else, Keith liked feeling as if he was living in a hotel (which in fact he was, on the residence floor of a luxury hotel that had newly opened in the heart of Silicon Valley to accommodate the influx of global visitors). It felt more like he was traveling for work, as he did often, and less like a sad single guy’s apartment. The whole condo had been a splurge after the divorce, when he was contemplating the expense of two households and Karina’s college tuition ahead.

He’d finally made the move to Duncan Weiss, after avoiding it for so long because of Jaya’s voice in his mind. The move had taken some adjustment; policies and procedures were not as established there as they’d been at Morgan Stanley, but he was acclimated now. Culturally, the smaller bank felt more comfortable than his previous blue-chip firm ever had. He may have had an Ivy League diploma, but at heart, Keith was a scrappy entrepreneur’s kid from Philly. Most importantly, as a bigger fish in the smaller pond of Duncan Weiss, he took home a larger share of the bonus pool. With his first-year bonus, he’d paid off the modest mortgage on their family house so Jaya and Karina could live there without worry. A year later, he bought himself this condo, justifying it because of how hard he worked. When his parents came out to visit, they were awestruck by the heights to which their son had climbed in the pecking order, as he knew they would be.

Courtney walked up behind him in the kitchen and wrapped her arms around his waist, sliding one hand down beneath his towel. She nibbled at his ear. “Sure you don’t want to come back to bed for just a few minutes?”

Keith put his coffee cup on the counter and refastened the towel around his waist before turning around to meet her expectant face. He summoned patience: he was desperate to get her out of here now, but she would be nice to come home to in a couple of days. He cupped his hands around her face. “Next weekend, we’ll order room service and stay in bed all day. Promise.” He kissed her deeply, in a way he hoped would satisfy her. “But right now, we’ve gotta go.”

He patted her ass before returning to the bedroom, where he spent an unreasonable amount of time deliberating over which shirt to wear. As he tucked a pale blue linen shirt into his jeans, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. How could he be old enough to be taking his daughter to college? There were still times when, putting on a suit, he felt twenty-five years younger, dressing for his first job at Morgan Stanley in New York. The time had passed in an instant. And yet, when he thought about it, the weight of those years and all that had happened had left their mark.