e home

g a cold mug of chamomile tea, when I heard the key turn in the l

call, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hair slightly messy fro

. In the other, a paper bag from Frenchette Bakery. T

tomorrow," I said, my voice

own and walked straight to me, cupping my face with both hands. His hands were warm. Real. "I too

habit. For ten years, this was how we said hello and goo

This was just Zachary. My husband. The man who once sat with me o

omething," h

. The one I had mentioned exactly once, two weeks ago, while chopping on

always remembered

near the St. Regis and

him? How could I have thought the man in the grey suit with my birthday watc

," I said, clut

around my waist from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder. "You think I'

l in her planet-patterned paj

ed her up. "There's my as

a rocket!"

ought. He helped Zoe tape her rocket together on the living room floor. He asked a

t cold. He wasn't distant. He was so perfect

ok the black Lincoln SUV. Zachary driving, me in t

night's drizzle. Manhatta

bear?" Zoe asked from t

you," Zachary said, eyes on the road, one hand resting casual

ar smelled like his bergamot cologne and leather

something else. C

led i

tons, Chanel-style but not Chanel. Size 0. Petite. Not mine. I h

ot. Tuberose. Strong, sweet, cloying, expe

ds wen

ncing at me in the rearview mirror. H

eaned forward. "Mr

s sure they could hear it. I turne

fell from its pocket and

foil-wrapp

e full seconds, my brai

condom. Durex. The e

left m

Our staff would never leave somethin

been in this car. Recentl

there?" Zoe's voice

to turn his head. He

it.

r side of the third row and found the sof

dest smile I could muster, crawled back to the second row, and shoved both the bear and th

the bear. S

his brow furrowed. "You look pale, Rhea. Dizzy a

ed, my hand clenched so tight around the foil i

cent was now trapped in my coat, mixin

ook my free hand, squeezing it. His

pped around another woman's wai

oetry book for me and a condom

hands. At the watch on his wris

remembered my favorite poet, or the man who

that not-knowing was the mo