– Lo siento.
“How often was she here?”
“Several times.”
“Several?”
“Yes. Sometimes she stayed a few hours.”
“What did she look like?”
“Dark hair. Early forties.”
I gripped the cardigan.
“Did they argue?”
“Not that I saw.”
“What were they doing?”
“Mostly talking.”
She hesitated.
“There were usually papers everywhere.”
Papeles.
Inmediatamente recordé la chaqueta de Jack.
Las sesiones nocturnas de laptop.
Los impulsos inexplicables.
Durante días, lo repetí todo.
The woman.
The papers.
The secrecy.
At two in the morning, lying alone in the bed Jack and I had shared since we were young, I whispered into the darkness:
“Were you cheating on me?”
Me odiaba a mí mismo por preguntar.
Estaba muerto.
Él no podía responder.
Tres días después, alguien llamó a mi puerta.
Lucy was coloring at the kitchen table.
“Mommy, who is it?”
“I don’t know, baby.”
I opened the door.
