When we first started dating I was the girl he looked at that way, but after a few months, when the honeymoon phase wore off, I could see his gaze escape mine and linger on other women for longer than a passing glance. Once, we’d played hooky from work, faking dentist appointments for an early fuck and breakfast at Bluestone Lane on 90th and Fifth. A group of girls from the Catholic high school nearby passed in their plaid skirts, made mini by rolling at the waist until you could practically see the virginity they all so desperately wanted to lose. I watched him watch them, stare at their pore-less faces, skin as tight as rubber bands, then look between their legs with a ferocity I’d never seen on him before. But I wasn’t bothered by it. I didn’t really think twice, if I’m being honest. I’ve spent entire yoga classes oscillating between the protruding crotch on the hot trainee and the bulbous tits waterfalling out of Feather’s sports bra. Attraction is a primal, biological instinct. Refusing that would be like refusing something as basic as hunger or thirst. Right?

But that confidence comes with knowing that Graham would never act on it. He loves me too much. I’m his perfect woman. I made sure of it.

Pressing the elevator button for the twenty-fourth floor has given me immense satisfaction since the day I moved in. We’re penthouse-adjacent: all the benefits of the top, without actually reaching the peak. I’m too young to be so high that there’s nowhere to go but down. Though it does serve as a constant reminder of how fragile this life is. And how far there is to fall if the bubble ever pops.

I can hear the television as soon as I step out of the elevator and into our small semiprivate lobby. There are two apartments this lobby serves, but the other has been vacant since I’ve lived here, so it’s basically just ours. Graham never locks the door and cites this as one of his reasons. I hate it. He argues that’s why we have a doorman and cameras, so we never have to worry about carrying around keys. But if someone wanted to get in to steal our laptops or hide under our beds and murder us, they’d find a way. And it would be made much easier if the door is unlocked.