Chapter 2

Going from dinners with Arlene Fox to getting a hotel room took all of two months.

The first time, she curled up against me and pouted, telling me I was so bad, Brandon.

I felt alive again.

I got home late that night, her perfume still on me.

Leona was sitting on the living room couch, flipping through channels with the remote. She looked up when she heard the door.

"Client dinner tonight?"

"Yeah, a client."

She nodded and didn't ask anything else.

I let out a breath and went upstairs to shower.

In the shower I thought, if she asked too much I'd have to make things up, and that was a hassle. Lucky for me she was easy, no fuss.

Six months went by like that.

One night Leona was doing laundry when she spotted a lipstick mark on my shirt collar.

She stood in front of me holding the shirt, her face gone tight.

"What's this?"

My heart skipped, but I steadied fast.

"A client had too much to drink, leaned in close to talk to me and smudged it. What are you imagining?"

She looked at me and said nothing.

That look made me uneasy, like she could see right through me.

But it lasted only a few seconds. She tossed the shirt into the washer, turned around, and went back to the kitchen.

I stood there with a strange feeling.

I couldn't tell if it was relief or something else.

That night she lay beside me with her back to me, not moving.

I knew she probably wasn't asleep, but I couldn't be bothered.

What could she do anyway?

Without me she was nothing.

After that I got even bolder.

On weekends I'd go out with Arlene without bothering to make excuses, just saying I had something to do.

When Leona asked what, I told her not to worry about it.

So she stopped asking.

One time Arlene and I were on a video call in the living room.

She was in a thin slip nightgown, cooing at me. "Brandon, I miss you."

The study door wasn't shut. Leona came in carrying a plate of fruit and froze.

I saw her and didn't panic, didn't hang up.

She stood there stunned for a couple of seconds, set the fruit plate down, turned, and walked out.

The door closed so softly it barely made a sound.

Arlene asked from the other end, "Was that your wife just now?"

I said yes.

"She's not angry?"

"Her?" I laughed once. "What right does she have to be angry?"

Arlene giggled. "Brandon, you're so bad."

After I hung up, I ate a couple of pieces of fruit, thinking, she knows exactly what she's worth.

Living the good life off me all these years, and still not satisfied?

That night I got up to use the bathroom, and passing through the living room I stopped.

Leona was sitting on the couch, hugging her knees, curled into a ball.

The curtains weren't drawn all the way, and in the moonlight coming through I could see her shoulders shaking.

She was crying.

I stood in the hallway watching for a while and said nothing.

Then I turned and went back to the bedroom and kept sleeping.

The next morning she'd made breakfast like always, no trace of any of it on her face.

"Food's ready."

She came out carrying a plate and set the fried eggs down in front of me.

I glanced at her and said nothing.

Good. Sensible.

Saved me the trouble.