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festering. I’ll be peeing blood by morning.”
    He leaned toward her. He reached for her hands, but she wouldn’t let him connect. “Listen, I did the wrong thing, not you. I hoped you’d never be hurt by it, I hoped I’d make it right over time by being a good partner, a good father. None of it was your fault and I’ll pay the price—but don’t let it eat you up. No reason both of us should carry the load.”
    And yet in her mind there were so many things she couldn’t quite place in the context of the affair. She remembered that during sex one night he said, “Didn’t you used to move your hips?” and she had laughed, thinking he was so funny. Was that when he realized he needed a woman with some passion? He’d remarked that he loved her coming to bed naked these days and she’d firmly told him not to get any ideas. They were too tired at night, too rushed in the mornings, had too many kids around the house on the weekends and never, absolutely never got away alone. And then there was the fact that she was hot-flashing her brains out and her vagina felt like sandpaper. The things people don’t tell you about menopause... But five years ago, seven years ago, she hadn’t had any of those symptoms. She had been so content.
    He had asked her if she wanted to get away for a weekend, if only to the city. Just the two of them. When was that? He hadn’t asked in a long time and she had never suggested it. They hadn’t escaped—there were always too many family and work obligations. She asked herself if she had driven him to her by being so unlike a mistress, and that made her want to kill him on the spot.
    “I never had an affair,” she said.
    “I know,” he said.
    “No! You don’t know! You don’t know any more than I knew about yours, but I’m telling you, I had just as many kids, just as little sex, just as much pressure and I never had an affair!”
    “Gerri—”
    “Phil, I don’t think I can live with you now, knowing.”
    “Let’s not do that,” he said calmly. “Let’s work through it if we can, go to counseling if you want to, do whatever it takes. But let’s not throw in the towel now, after almost twenty-five years and one terrible mistake that I’ll do anything I can to make amends for.”
    She shook her head and wiped the moisture off her cheeks. “I don’t know if I can do it,” she said with a hiccup of emotion.
    “After everything you’ve seen in families—the abuse, addiction, crime, neglect—Gerri, please keep your head. We can weather this. We love each other.”
    “We’re not like those families.” She sniffed. “You and I—we were always different. We always played as a team. Fuck you, you asshole, you played on another team!”
    “All right, listen to me. If you decide you can’t live with it, if you can’t forgive me, we’ll deal with that—but first, you have to give it a little time, some effort. You obviously just learned of this and you’re hot as a pistol. If you feel the same way after we’ve tried to get beyond my crimes, we’ll make a plan that’s best for the family. But not the very day you find out. It’s reactionary.”
    “Weren’t you reactionary? Falling into bed with her like that? Not even sure why?”
    “Absolutely,” he said with a nod. “And trust me, the price was high, even without you knowing what I’d done. Give yourself a little time to think. Please.”
    “You’ve done some real stupid, lame-ass, highly punishable things in our marriage,” she said. “I was with my dying mother and you were supposed to pick up the kids and bring them, but you lost track of time and left them standing around outside the school, waiting, while it was getting dark. And they were so little!” He nodded solemnly. She didn’t add that she’d fired a hospital water jug at him when they’d finally shown up and despite the fact she’d left a nice purple bruise on his head, he’d held her close while she cried. For a long time. “I was