Chapter 3

Cassandra saw me first.

“Regina.”

She backed up so fast her heel caught on the front step. Morris steadied her, his hand still on her arm.

“Morris, let go,” she whispered. “Regina’s home.”

“What are you afraid of?”

He turned to me. His hand was still on her sleeve.

“A pipe burst in Cassandra’s apartment,” he said. “I told her she could stay with us for a couple of days.”

He said it the way he might have told me he’d left a package in the hall. It had already been decided. All I had to do was make room.

“Wouldn’t she be more comfortable in a hotel?”

His brow furrowed. “I’ve already told her she can stay. Don’t start, Regina.”

“I don’t have a problem with her staying.” I shifted the envelope with my passport and permits under my arm. “I’m busy this week, though, so you’ll have to look after your guest yourself.”

He looked as if he’d already decided what to say to my next objection. I waited just long enough for him to realize there wasn’t one.

“I’m going upstairs. Take your time.”

Once, at dinner with a few friends from the pack, a man who’d had too much to drink asked Morris whether he’d ever really gotten over Cassandra.

I waited until we got home to ask what he meant. Morris set his watch on the dresser and told me I was embarrassing myself. I followed him into the kitchen, asking questions I knew he wouldn’t answer. For the next three days, the only thing he said to me was to ask where I’d put his keys.

For months, I couldn’t hear Cassandra’s name without wanting to know who’d brought her up and why. I’d ask a question, hear myself getting the tone wrong, and spend the rest of the night trying to ask it better. Every time I got upset, Morris found another reason to tell me how easy she’d been to talk to.

Tonight, he could wonder what I was thinking.

Upstairs, I slid the envelope into my bag.

Later, the mattress dipped behind me. Morris slid an arm around my waist and drew me back against him. His thumb moved over the back of my hand in slow circles. Early in our marriage, I used to wait for that little gesture after an argument. It usually meant he’d decided we could speak again.

“I know I’ve been neglecting you,” he said. “I know it’s been hard. But there’s nothing between Cassandra and me. We’re friends.”

I almost laughed.

If I hadn’t seen the flowers and the gifts, I might have believed him. If I hadn’t heard him promise her the northern lights in the same voice he was using now, I might even have turned over and put my arms around him.

“When I get back from this trip, things will be better,” he murmured into my hair. “We’ll have a good life together. Nobody’s going to come between us again.”

I couldn’t tell which of us he needed to believe that.

His thumb went on tracing the same circle. I closed my eyes and waited for him to fall asleep.

Gordon called the next morning. Morris’s side of the bed was empty. From the kitchen came the sound of a cupboard closing.

“Did you get your permits?” Gordon asked.

“Yesterday.”

“Good. I can get you on a flight in five days. Does that give you enough time?”

I counted forward. If Morris left when he’d said he would, he’d still be in Finland.

“Five days works.”

“Have you told him you want a divorce?”

“Not yet. Can you find me a lawyer? I need someone to draft the agreement and handle the paperwork with the pack registrar.”

“I’ll get you a name today.”

I thanked him, hung up, and opened the bedroom door.

Morris was wearing the apron I’d bought him our first winter together. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him tie it on.

There were eggs, crisp potatoes, fruit, and a plate of pancakes on the table. He poured Cassandra a glass of milk and handed it to her before he noticed me.

“Regina!” Cassandra waved me over. “Come eat. Morris made enough for everybody.”

She pulled out the chair beside hers. It was the one I usually sat in.

“I was overseas for so long,” she said. “His cooking was what I missed most.”

Morris still had the milk carton in his hand.

“Honestly, I envy you,” she went on. “Getting to eat like this every day. He must make you something different for breakfast and dinner all the time, right?”

Morris went still. On my birthday, he’d promised to cook the next day. The next day had come and gone without either of us mentioning it.

I smiled at Cassandra and shook my head.