pte

S POINT

y. My third? Fourth? I'd lost count somewhere between si

e. Camille's genuine smile, my distracted eyes,

o

e felt like

e from her: "Darling, stop drinking

omeone who loved us. Someone who'd given m

me like a pun

-

was small, uncertain. "D

uption. She stood in the doorway of my home office,

e one with truffles?" Her eyes were

t pasta for me in Rome, years ago. B

even look at the pl

you've been working late

an anger that wasn't really m

The pasta sat untouched until morning, a perfect re

-

, watching crystal shatter li

Every missed dinner, every forgotten anniversary, every time I'd chos

ed again. Mot

alright? Do you need anything? I always sa

emembering another mome

-

ured me another drink. We were alone in my office after another d

e bitterness from my voice. "Teach

erything about her was practiced. "Are

y. Four years of passion and plans, ended by her

The question slipped out, co

amiliar and forbidden. "Camille needed

ng from that time felt hazy, manipulated. Lik

ispered, too close now.

something differen

-

his one from last week. Th

-

lle's smile was bright, genuine. Alway

se, Rose's perfume still lingering on m

my keys, avoiding her

htly. "Will you be home for

t wai

ow to break the news. She'd worn the same pe

stroking my hair. "A clean break.

n her eyes when she'd

-

from the memory. Mother stood there,

g. Drinking alo

ow, Mo

the broken glass with disapproval. "R

broken. "Like you were worried

you." Mother's voice hardened

d, unsteady. "

ll not speak to me that w

what? String along a woman who loved me while pining for he

. In twenty eight years, I'd

cotch making me brave. "Her clothes, her manners, her cooking

nderstands our

ruth hit me like a freight train. "Sh

raightened her designer jacket.

ad she loved

d our "chance" meetings after returning from London. The way she'd e

ow. The charity gala, Camille conveniently "s

to my chair, suddenly ex

efa

hat I finally saw through her perfect mask? That I'd des

e expensive perfume. Like Rose's perfume. Like all the

age. Rose again: "Darling, stop b

o

and scattered papers. At Camille's wedding photo

had I