I corrected him: “No, Daniel. This has been out of my control for a long time. I’m just finding out.”
When Daniel looked away, I knew enough. Not the duration or details, but that something existed between him and Laura. My knees weakened; I sat. He approached, and I raised a hand. “Don’t.” I asked, “How long?” I repeated, “How long?”
“It’s complicated.”
“That’s not a number.”
He tried again: “Claire.” I repeated, “How long?” Finally he admitted, “A few months.”
The admission felt like a sudden drop through the
