Seven nights of watching my husband choose someone else while I pretended to sleep.
On the eighth night, I didn’t set an alarm. Instead, I drove downtown and left a flash drive on Mrs. Chen’s desk at Chen & Associates Family Law.
Her assistant would find it Monday morning, along with my retainer check and a note that simply said: “I need everything. Let’s schedule an appointment soon!”
Dave found me in the kitchen when he got back from his midnight rendezvous.
“You’re up late,” he said, not quite meeting my eyes.
“Couldn’t sleep.” I turned a page in the magazine I wasn’t reading. “How was the trash?”
“The what?”
“The trash.
You’ve been taking it out every night this week.”
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