The sentence landed cleanly.
No defense against it.
She walked toward the window.
“Is the apartment going away?”
“No idea.”
“Grant.”
“What?”
“I need time if I have to move.”
“I understand.”
“Are you ending this?”
A year earlier, the question would have frightened me.
That day, it barely reached me.
“I think it ended before I got here.”
Tessa’s face hardened.
“So now this is my fault?”
“No.”
“Because your wife found out, suddenly I’m the mistake?”
“No.”
“Then what am I?”
I surveyed the apartment.
“A place I went so I wouldn’t have to be accountable anywhere.”
She flinched.
So did I.
Because it was the first honest description of our relationship either of us had spoken.
I left twenty minutes later.
In the elevator, my phone buzzed.
A text from an unknown number.
For one second, I thought it was Corinne.
Corinne has agreed to a video call concerning Owen at 7:00 p.m.
