Chapter 4

“Not this time.”

Daniel spun toward the stairs. He was still holding his phone, and I could hear Elise asking what had happened.

“Were you listening to me?”

“You were standing in our kitchen, promising another woman that I would give in.”

He ended the call, irritation crossing his face. “I’m not doing this with you tonight.”

“Your bag is downstairs.”

Daniel stared at me for several seconds, waiting for me to take it back.

When I didn’t, he picked up the bag and headed for the door.

“Call me when you’ve calmed down.”

“Don’t wait for that call.”

The door closed behind him.

I didn’t follow.

The next morning, the venue coordinator called to confirm the schedule for our anniversary brunch.

It was supposed to be the second part of the celebration, where Daniel and I would renew our vows in front of our family and friends.

“Cancel it,” I said.

She reminded me that with less than forty-eight hours’ notice, only half the deposit would be refunded.

My fingers tightened against the table. “I understand. Cancel it.”

After the call, I opened the group chat for our guests.

No one had mentioned Daniel’s confession. Two people had posted photos from the restaurant, and someone else wanted to know what to wear to the brunch.

I typed one message.

Daniel admitted last night that he is in love with Elise. The vow-renewal brunch is canceled. Please don’t buy us any more gifts.

My phone rang less than a minute later.

One friend asked whether I really needed to make the situation so public.

Another said Daniel had been under a great deal of pressure and deserved a chance to explain.

I let the calls go unanswered and contacted a family mediator.

When she began listing the documents I would need, I wrote down only the date and time.

The process wouldn’t be finished in a day.

But once the appointment was confirmed, I was no longer waiting for Daniel to decide what he wanted.

At noon, Beth, my supervisor at the library, emailed me.

She wanted to know if I would reconsider leading Second Chapters, an oral-history project featuring people who had rebuilt their lives in middle age. It required several weeks of evening programs.

I had turned it down two months earlier. I always hosted Thanksgiving and Christmas, and Daniel expected me to manage every family commitment on his calendar.

I replied:

If the position is still open, I’ll take it.

Beth confirmed within minutes.

That afternoon, I sent a second message, this time to the Reed family group chat.

I will not be hosting Thanksgiving this year. Please make your own arrangements for the meal, shopping, and guest list.

Ruth called me immediately.

“Hannah, how many things are you planning to cancel?” Her voice was tight. “The brunch was embarrassing enough for everyone. What does Thanksgiving have to do with your marriage?”

“I’ve handled it for twenty years. I’m not doing it this year.”

“But Daniel said that even if the two of you separated for a while, you would still host as usual.”

I looked at the ivory place card on the dining table.

“When did he promise you that for me?”