“You haven’t asked whether I want to.”

“Come on, I know you love me.”

The gall of this man was honestly quite impressive, I must admit.

I hadn’t missed feeling like my wishes were an inconvenience.

I had missed him during those first weeks. His ridiculous commentary during crime shows. The way he warmed my car on freezing mornings. I’d even missed the sound of his keys hitting the kitchen counter.

But I hadn’t missed feeling like my wishes were an inconvenience.

He glanced through the doorway.

“You painted the kitchen?”

“Last Saturday.”

Then his eyes settled on the lock.

“Blue?”

“I like blue.”

He frowned. Gary had always hated blue.

Then his eyes settled on the lock.

“That’s new too.”

He looked offended, as though I’d changed something that still belonged to him.

“I had it changed.”

“Without telling me?”

“You weren’t living here.”

He looked offended, as though I’d changed something that still belonged to him.

“Can I at least have some water?” he asked.

Under the workbook was a folder from the attorney’s office.

“Sure.”

I closed the door and returned to the kitchen.

Beside the leftover pasta sat my accounting workbook. I’d started taking classes after Gary left, partly to keep busy and partly because I wanted something in my life that had nothing to do with him.

Under the workbook was a folder from the attorney’s office. I’d finished the paperwork last month but hadn’t bothered to put it away.

“But tell me something. Why exactly is Gary back?”

I filled a glass with water.

My phone rang.

Linda.

“I was about to come over,” she said. “But tell me something. Why exactly is Gary back?”

“His girlfriend threw him out. Now he wants to move in with me.”

“Debbie, that’s strange.”

There was a pause.

“Debbie, that’s strange.”

“Which part?”

“Carol told me yesterday that her friend Rachel had just thrown her boyfriend out. She’d caught him changing his stories about their relationship. He’d been telling her he was divorced.”

“Rachel threw hers out, and now Gary shows up because his girlfriend kicked him out.”

Carol was Linda’s sister. She lived two streets away and belonged to a book club with Rachel.

“Lots of men lie about being divorced,” I said.

“I know. But Rachel threw hers out, and now Gary shows up because his girlfriend kicked him out. The timing made me wonder.”

I looked toward the front door.

“You think they’re the same man?”

“That’s why I want to check before we accuse anyone. Keep Gary outside until I call you back.”

“I don’t know. Rachel’s at Carol’s house right now. She went over after the breakup. I’m going to ask Carol for a picture.”

“Linda, this could be a coincidence.”

“Exactly. That’s why I want to check before we accuse anyone. Keep Gary outside until I call you back.”

She hung up.

I stood there holding the water, trying to understand why Linda suddenly sounded concerned rather than amused.

“So, are we going to talk like adults?”

Outside, Gary knocked.

“Deb? You making that water from scratch?”

I opened the door a few inches and handed him the glass.

“Thanks.” He took a drink. “So, are we going to talk like adults?”

“Depends. Are you going to answer a question?”

“How long were you seeing her before you moved out?”

“What question?”

“How long were you seeing her before you moved out?”

Gary twisted the glass between his hands.

“Why dig all that up?”

“Because you’re asking me to pretend it never happened.”

He looked toward Linda’s house.

“I told you, it was a mistake.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

He looked toward Linda’s house.

“Maybe we should go inside.”

“Why?”

“Did you tell your girlfriend we were divorced?”

“Because Linda’s nosy.”

“Linda isn’t even home.”

“Still, I’d like a bit more privacy.”

I watched him take another drink.

“Did you tell your girlfriend we were divorced?”

“I told her we were separated.”

His hand stopped halfway to his mouth.

“What?”

“It’s a simple question.”

“I told her we were separated.”

“Were we?”

“Look, you’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

“Debbie, you know things were difficult.”

“We’re separated, this isn’t some brief spat.”

He set the glass on the porch railing.

“Look, you’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

My phone buzzed.

I read the message twice.

Linda: Carol sent me a picture of Rachel’s boyfriend. It’s Gary. I’m going to pick them up now.

I read the message twice.

Gary was watching me.

“Who keeps texting you?”

“Linda.”

“What does Linda know about her?”

“What’s she saying?”

“She found something interesting.”

“About what?”

“Your girlfriend.”

His expression tightened.

He reached for his suitcase handle, then let go.

“What does Linda know about her?”

“Apparently, more than I do.”

He reached for his suitcase handle, then let go.

“Debbie, let’s just go inside and talk.”

“I think I’d rather stay here.”

For the first time since he’d arrived, he seemed genuinely nervous.

He glanced toward the street.

For the first time since he’d arrived, he seemed genuinely nervous.

A few minutes later, a car pulled into Linda’s driveway.

Linda got out from behind the wheel. A woman climbed from the front passenger seat, her purse strap wound tightly around her wrist. Carol remained in the back.

The woman stopped at the foot of my walkway.

Gary dropped his suitcase handle.

“No,” he said.

The woman stopped at the foot of my walkway.

“Hello, Gary.”

He turned toward me. “What did you do?”

“You told me you’d been divorced for two years.”

“Nothing yet,” I said.

Linda came up to me.

“Debbie, this is Rachel.”

Rachel looked at me, then back at Gary.

“You told me you’d been divorced for two years,” Rachel said.

“He moved out four months ago. We’re still married.”

“I told you the marriage was over.”

“He moved out four months ago,” I said. “We’re still married.”

“You know things were difficult, Debbie.”

“Difficult isn’t divorced.”

Rachel stared at him.

“After we talked, I called Carol.”

“And your name isn’t James.”

I turned to Gary. “James?”

“It’s my middle name,” he muttered.

“You never told me that,” Rachel said.

Linda touched my arm.

I looked at Gary. He was staring at the pavement.

“After we talked, I called Carol. Rachel was right there with her, so Carol asked for a picture and sent it to me. I recognized Gary immediately. That’s when I went to get them.”

I looked at Gary. He was staring at the pavement.

Rachel folded her arms.

“You said you and Debbie only lived together because selling the house would upset your son.”

“He told me your son was seventeen.”

“Our son moved out three years ago,” I said.

“He told me your son was seventeen.”

“He’s twenty-four.”

Rachel looked at Gary.

“You made her sound like she was keeping you trapped.”

He looked at me, searching for help.

“You don’t know what our marriage was like,” he snapped.

“Neither do I, apparently.”

He looked at me, searching for help.

For twenty-two years, I’d known that look. Usually, it meant I was supposed to smooth things over.

I said nothing.

“You told me Debbie hated your mother.”

Rachel took a breath.

“You told me Debbie hated your mother.”

I felt something tighten in my chest.

“I took her to chemotherapy every Thursday for six months.”

Rachel’s expression hardened.

“You used her to make yourself the victim.”

“You said she refused to visit when your mother was sick.”

“I was explaining how lonely I felt!” Gary snapped.

“So you made her sound cruel?” Rachel asked. “You used her to make yourself the victim.”

Gary rubbed his forehead.

“Look, I wasn’t happy. Neither of you understands what that was like.”

“We were already seeing each other in March. On March eighth, he told me he loved me.”

I looked at Rachel.

“How long were you together?”

She hesitated.

“We were already seeing each other in March. On March eighth, he told me he loved me.”

I stared at Gary.

“He was still living with you then?”

“That was our anniversary.”

Rachel went still.

“He was still living with you then?”

“Yes. He told me he had a work dinner.”

Rachel looked at him.

I remembered the dinner I’d eaten by myself that night. I’d saved him a plate in the refrigerator.

“You told me you’d spent that evening alone before coming to see me.”

Gary stared at the pavement.

I remembered the dinner I’d eaten by myself that night. I’d saved him a plate in the refrigerator.

Now I wondered how many ordinary little kindnesses he’d accepted while telling someone else I was a terrible wife.

“Debbie,” Gary began.

“Look, Rachel was controlling. Always checking where I went, asking questions.”

“Don’t.”

He stepped toward me anyway.

“Look, Rachel was controlling. Always checking where I went, asking questions.”

“Because you kept changing your stories,” Rachel said. “That’s why I told you to leave.”

He turned back to me.

“Debbie, please. I apologize. I just want to come home.”

“And you shut me out emotionally for years.”

I laughed, once.

“Gary, you told me everything was fine until the day you left.”

He looked trapped, but not sorry.

Then he reached for my hand.

He still hadn’t asked whether I wanted him there.

“Debbie, please. I apologize. I just want to come home.”

I stepped back.

He still hadn’t asked whether I wanted him there.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“For all of this.”

“I have nowhere to stay. The apartment’s in Rachel’s name, and hotels are expensive.”

“Be specific.”

He glanced at his suitcases.

“For putting us in this situation. I have nowhere to stay. The apartment’s in Rachel’s name, and hotels are expensive.”

I waited.

He added, “I’ve had a really awful week.”

He stared at me as if I’d broken a promise.

“That’s what you’re sorry about?”

“I’m trying here!”

“No,” I said. “You’re looking for a bed.”

He stared at me as if I’d broken a promise.

I hadn’t.

Gary’s eyes moved to the front door.

“You wanted a clean break, remember?” I said. “You accepted the buyout for your share of the house. You signed the papers, and the transfer was finalized last month. It’s mine now.”

Gary’s eyes moved to the front door.

Then to the new lock.

“You can’t just leave me outside.”

“I can. You taught me how.”

She nodded, tears in her eyes, and walked toward Linda’s car.

Rachel adjusted her purse strap.

“Debbie, I never would have dated him if I’d known. I should have asked more questions.”

“You believed someone you cared about,” I said. “I did too.”

She nodded, tears in her eyes, and walked toward Linda’s car.

Gary called after her, but she didn’t turn.

I shut the door while he was still deciding whom to blame.

Then he looked at Linda.

“Are you happy now?”

Linda shrugged.

“Not particularly. But Debbie might be.”

I shut the door while he was still deciding whom to blame.

Linda stood beside her rosebush, just as she’d promised.

From the kitchen, I pressed the garage-door remote.

Through the window, I watched Gary carry the two boxes I’d packed to his Buick. Then he dragged both suitcases from the porch and struggled to fit his golf clubs into the trunk.

My neighbor stood beside her rosebush, just as she’d promised.

He’d arrived expecting me to carry his bags inside. Now he was carrying everything back out himself.

Inside were sparkling cider, cheese, crackers, and a tiny cake with pink frosting.

Gary slammed the trunk and drove away.

I closed the garage door. Linda drove Carol and Rachel home.

When she returned, she was carrying a grocery bag.

“Emergency supplies,” she announced.

Inside were sparkling cider, cheese, crackers, and a tiny cake with pink frosting.

We ate cake for dinner beneath my blue cabinets.

“What’s the occasion?” I asked.

She set the cake on my counter.

“You got your porch back.”

We ate cake for dinner beneath my blue cabinets. I cried halfway through, and Linda stayed until I stopped.