A minute later, I grabbed my purse. By the time I’d locked the front door behind me, I still hadn’t decided whether I was following my husband, or chasing the very first doubt our marriage had ever handed me.
The sensible thing would have been to stay home.
I started my car instead, and pulled onto the street, leaving enough distance that Elliot’s silver SUV blended easily into the morning traffic.
Part Two
At first, everything looked exactly as it should. He headed toward downtown. Toward the office.
I almost laughed at myself. Maybe the message had been meant for somebody else entirely. Maybe I was about to let four words unravel nine years of trust over nothing.
I was already composing the apology I’d never have to actually give him when his right turn signal came on.
I was already composing the apology I’d never have to give him.
His office wasn’t that direction. I followed anyway.
Hollis Road cut through one of the older parts of Ashgrove, where family-owned shops had somehow survived long after the strip malls moved in. Elliot slowed outside a florist. I parked across the street and watched him disappear inside.
The seconds stretched out longer than they had any right to.
There had to be a reasonable explanation.
Anniversary flowers. A client. Someone in the hospital.
When he came back out, he was carrying a single white rose.
Not a bouquet. Just one.
He laid it gently across the passenger seat and pulled away.
