"Did you ever tell me?"
"No."
"Why?"
"I was scared."
"You were less scared to tell him."
Tears returned.
"Yes."
That hurt in a new way.
Claire continued.
On the second-to-last night, she asked Julian whether the trip meant they were getting back together.
He said he cared deeply about her.
Maybe still loved her.
But his divorce had barely begun.
He did not trust himself to build another relationship immediately.
He said they should return to their lives.
Give it time.
Maybe six months.
Maybe a year.
If circumstances aligned, they could see where they were.
"Did he ask you to divorce me?"
"No."
"Did you tell him you were going to?"
Claire stared at her hands.
"I said I might."
The room tilted.
"You told him you might divorce me."
"Yes."
"When?"
"The last two days."
"So while I was calling to make sure you were alive—"
"I know."
"You were discussing whether to end our marriage."
"I know."
I stood.
Walked to the window.
Ben's neighborhood was quiet outside.
A delivery van passed.
Somebody pushed a stroller.
My private catastrophe had no effect on weather or traffic.
I turned back.
"What happened on the drive home?"
Claire wiped her face.
"I felt sick."
"Why?"
"Because once I wasn't there with him, everything felt different."
"I thought about the house."
"Milo."
"You."
"Nine years."
"All the ordinary things I had been treating like evidence that our marriage was boring."
"I realized they were actually the life we built."
"And Julian?"
"I started seeing how much of what I felt was nostalgia."
"Did that realization happen before or after he said he wouldn't be with you now?"
Claire flinched.
"After."
"Exactly."
"But that doesn't make it fake."
"No."
"I don't know if it's fake."
"I know the sequence."
She started crying harder.
"I understand why you think you're plan B."
"That's not what I—"
"I don't think."
"I know."
Her face collapsed.
"Nathan, you are not second choice to me."
"Then why did you need him to decline first?"
She had no answer.
I sat again.
Claire whispered:
"I love you."
I looked at her.
"I believe you."
She seemed startled.
"I do."
"I believe you love me."
"That doesn't solve this."
"Then what does?"
"I don't know."
"Counseling."
"We can do counseling."
"I will quit my job if you want."
"He doesn't work there."
"I'll delete social media."
"Change my number."
"Whatever."
I shook my head.
"I don't want to become the man who needs to approve your phone number."
"I don't want to police you."
"I don't want passwords."
"I want a wife who doesn't require surveillance."
"I can be that."
"Maybe."