And I swear to myself, I swear it, I will not spend this money on anything other than what we absolutely need. Yes, I’ll pay down the balance on my secret credit card. Of course I’ll use some to pay for my storage unit in advance, that’s just smart financial planning. But the rest of it will be used for practical things. Necessary things.

My heart races and I’m flushed as I shut down the laptop. I’m already imagining my endless hot showers, courtesy of a new hot water heater, when Ken comes upstairs. He tries to tell me about the movie they watched, but I don’t care. He lets out a muffled noise of surprise when I pull him down onto the bed.

After it’s over, beside me on the pillow, Ken lets out a light snore. I’m about to get up to use the bathroom when he turns to face me. His hand pins my hip.

“That was different,” he says. “Where’d you learn that?”

I roll to face him. His features are a blur of shadow and line in the dim light. I could touch his nose, his lips, his cheeks and eyes, and I would know him, but right now he might as well be someone I’ve never met.

He pulls me closer. Finds my mouth with his. The kiss is hard, open mouth, probing tongue. When he pulls away, he’s breathing hard.

“This is good, with us. Isn’t it, Jewelann? We have a good life together.”

I cup his cheek. “We do. Yes.”

“Good. You’re happy?”

“I’m … yes, of course I’m happy. Are you?”

The silence beats on for one breath too many before he answers.

“Of course I am,” Ken says. “How could you think anything else?”

“Just checking.”

We are quiet.

He says, “It would be terrible if one of us did something to mess this up. Wouldn’t it? Tell me nothing’s going to mess this up.”

“Nothing,” I tell him, “will mess this up. I promise, I won’t let it.”

CHAPTER
14

“THE FAUCET IS dripping.” Ken looms over me, hands bracketing his hips. Inspecting. Judging.

I look up from my place on the kitchen floor, where I’ve been on my hands and knees scrubbing at stubborn stains I’m sure are decades old. I look at the kitchen sink, then at him. “Yeah. It has been for a while.”

“Why haven’t you had someone come to fix it?”

“I’ve been meaning to,” I tell him.

This is the longest stretch of time my husband has been here since … well, since I can’t remember when. For two weeks, I’ve been making a grand show of housewifing while Ken “works from home.” Every day he spends a few hours in his office with the door closed, doing whatever he does on his laptop. The rest of the time, he hovers.

“I wanted to spend more time with you and Eli,” he’d said when he told me about the restructuring, how he’ll be able to do more consulting from home. Less time on the road. “More like a nine-to-five sort of thing. This’ll be great.”