story about the fight you guys had. Maybe it was from being in some kind of delirious state when I was sick, but it seemed strange to me that Hugh would think you’d taken off without any word simply because of a heated discussion over kids. That’s not your style—so I suspected there was more to it than that. And I told him so.”
It takes me a moment to process this.
“And what did he say?”
“He said that anything involving your marriage was between him and you. End of discussion. I had no idea you were coming home that day, and when I ran into you, I told you the first thing that came into my mind, which of course you’d figure out soon enough was a lie. . . . I hope you don’t think I stepped out of line, Ally. It was only a theory at that point, and I didn’t want to bring it up to you and upset you unnecessarily if it wasn’t true.”
“No, I appreciate what you did, Gab.” And I do.
* * *
THE NEXT DAY I arrive at my apartment shortly before three. It’s strange to be back. All the white in the rooms—the walls and furniture and fabrics—which I always adored, seems stark after the seductive blue and gold and violet tones of Gabby’s place. It’s weirdly quiet, too. Usually, even this high up, I can hear the muted sound of rumbling trucks or sirens from the street or the wind coursing along the side of building, but today it feels as if the space has been hermetically sealed.
I use the next few hours to sort through my mail, run a couple of loads of laundry, and set out the items I purchased for dinner, everyday stuff that doesn’t feel like everyday anymore. During this time, one lingering mystery ends up solved. As I’m trying to decide whether I’m ever going to wear my trench coat again, I notice an inside pocket I’ve forgotten about, and hidden in there is my missing credit card.
Hugh arrives home, as promised, exactly at six, and I let him hug me. I briefly welcome the comfort of having his arms around me and the softness of his shirt against my cheek.
“Jeez, Ally, I’ve been so worried about you,” he mutters into my hair. “I just wish you had let me see you before now.”
“There’s nothing you could have done, Hugh,” I say, stepping back. “And the worst seems to be over.”
“You’ve got to fill me in. There’s still so much I don’t know.”
“I will. Are you ready to eat? The food’s on the table.”
“Terrific,” he says, shrugging off his suit jacket. “I’ll change later.”
We talk as we eat, with me fleshing out the missing details for him.
He doesn’t disguise how shocked he is and finally rests an elbow on the table, dropping his head into his hand.
“She would have killed you,” he said, his voice cracking. “And she would have buried your body like that other woman.”
“Hugh,” I say, moved by his anguish. “Let’s not think about that. Because it didn’t play out that way.”
“You saved yourself, Ally.”
I chuckle ruefully. “I guess all those years of field hockey finally paid off for me.”
He clears both our plates and returns to the table with a fresh bottle of sparkling water.
“Hugh, there’s more we need to talk about,” I say. “And that’s the two of us.”
He exhales, reaches over to grasp my hand.
“I want to make it work, Ally. I really do.”
I sit silently for a minute or two, feeling him watching me intently. My lips are pursed, I realize. Perhaps on some level, I’m scared of saying the wrong thing and later regretting it. But I’m pretty sure I know what I want.
“Look, on the one hand I’m relieved you didn’t end up sleeping with that woman. But you were attracted to her. You took her out for drinks and flirted with her. You kissed her. I know we’ve been fighting lately, but that’s hardly an excuse. And worst of all, you covered it up to protect yourself at a time when I desperately needed the truth.”
“That’s only because I wanted a second chance with you. I was afraid if I told you what had really happened, you wouldn’t give me that.”
“Or you didn’t want me to know that you’d upset me so badly, I’d fallen apart.”
He grimaces.
“It was terrible judgment on my part. But can you forgive me for this mistake? I know that marriages can survive this