"Are you?"
She thought longer.
"Sometimes."
That answer felt honest too.
"I'm learning not to treat sometimes like failure."
I nodded.
We finished our coffee.
At the door, Claire stopped.
"Nathan."
I turned.
"Do you ever think about what would have happened if I hadn't gone to Miami?"
I had asked myself that question so many times that it no longer frightened me.
"Yes."
"What do you think?"
I looked through the window at cars moving along the wet street.
"I think we might have stayed married longer."
She waited.
"Longer?"
"I already knew something was wrong. Nina had already called me. You had already moved the money and lied about Adrian. The trip didn't create the problem. It made both of us stop pretending we could keep living inside it."
Claire looked down.
"I used to think if I could undo that weekend, everything would go back."
"Would you undo the payments?"
Her eyes rose to mine.
"Yes."
"The affair?"
"Yes."
"Lying to Nina?"
"Yes."
"Then don't waste your life undoing Miami. That was just the loudest part."
She let out a long breath.
"You always did know how to make one sentence hurt."
"Occupational hazard."
A real smile crossed her face.
Then she hugged me.
I almost stepped back.
Instead, I let her.
It lasted three seconds.
Maybe four.
Then we separated.
There was no spark of reconciliation.
No sudden realization that we belonged together.
There was only affection for a person who had once been home and was now part of the road behind me.
That was enough.
I carried the box to my car.
At home, I sorted the contents.
I kept my father's grocery list.