Chapter 2

"I didn't push her away because the whole arena was watching." Nolan said it before we reached the kitchen. He dropped his keys into the bowl by the door. They struck the ceramic hard. He looked angry now, as if my silence during the drive had been an attack. "Answer my question," I said. "How many times have you kissed Maren?" "Tonight was the first time." He pulled off his coat. "It was a game, Talia. You are treating it like an affair." I studied his face. He held my gaze, but that did not make him honest. Nolan was good at believing his own explanations. "You can move your head," I said. "You chose not to." He walked to the kitchen counter and poured water. His hand shook once against the glass. "You weren't even in the seats when it happened." The words made my chest tighten. He said them like my absence had created permission. "I was buying your beer, Nolan." He opened his mouth, then closed it. His eyes slid away from mine. "You are my wife," he said, pronouncing every word slowly. "You know I love you. You cannot let a stupid two-second joke ruin a seven-year marriage." "Maren just got divorced, she's not stable right now. You could show her a little compassion." The sentence was familiar. For years, Maren had called when she was lonely, drunk, frightened, or angry. Nolan left dinners to answer. He canceled weekends to fix problems she could have handled herself. Whenever I objected, he asked me to be mature. Maturity meant waiting while he rescued her. Compassion meant accepting whatever was left for me. I took his water glass and moved it away from the edge. I had spent eight years preventing the mess after his careless movements. "You keep asking me to understand her," I said. "When have you ever asked her to respect me?" Before he could answer, his phone rang on the counter. Maren. Nolan stared at the screen. Then, he answered it right in front of me. "Maren? Are you okay?" His voice softened before he had even lifted the phone to his ear. I could hear her crying through the speaker. "Nolan, the video is everywhere," she sobbed. "Someone posted it on TikTok. People from our college group chat are sharing it. They're calling me a homewrecker." His shoulders softened as soon as he heard her voice. "Hey. No, you didn't do anything wrong." He turned slightly away from me. "Don't read the comments. People online don't know anything." I stood across from him and watched his hand close around the phone. He had not asked if I was all right. He had not told me the kiss meant nothing until I forced him to explain it. Maren called once, and comfort appeared in his voice without effort. Nolan did not need to be sleeping with Maren to betray me. He betrayed me every time he made her feelings urgent and mine inconvenient. When the call ended, he placed the phone facedown. "She didn't do anything wrong?" I asked. Nolan sighed, rubbing his temples. "Tal, please. You're blowing this way out of proportion. She is getting destroyed online right now. She was crying." I nodded. "Then I'm glad you remembered how to comfort someone." I went upstairs. Nolan followed me into our bedroom. I took a pillow from the bed and pulled the gray blanket from the chair. "You're sleeping somewhere else over one kiss?" I held the pillow against my chest. "I'm sleeping somewhere else because you still think Maren is the person who got hurt." Nolan remained in the doorway, one hand still on the frame. He looked irritated, not afraid. When I reached for the door, he didn't move until the wood nearly touched his shoulder. I walked right past him, and shut the door in his face. Click. I locked it. Ten minutes later, I heard his footsteps walk back to the master bedroom. The house went completely quiet. I stared at the dark ceiling. Each time I closed my eyes, I saw his hand on Maren's waist and heard his voice soften when she cried. On the other side of the wall, Nolan turned once in our bed. I waited for his footsteps to come back. They never did. I finally closed my eyes. Hours passed. It was the middle of the night. Suddenly, a sound woke me up. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. It was the electronic lock on our front door. I sat up in the dark. The front door opened downstairs. Then, Maren's voice floated through our silent house. "Nolan? I left my camera battery here last week."