He Asked Me To Leave The Party Early So His Friends Wouldn’t See Me—So I Did

the dim garden light—silver hair pulled back, eyes steady, face lined with the calm of someone who’d already survived her own disaster.

“You’re his wife,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

She nodded once. “I’m Margaret. I live next door. They think they’re discreet.”

“How long?” I asked.

She exhaled slowly. “Since early summer. It started as lunches.continue reading …