“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Relief came before I could stop it.
Claire saw.
“That doesn’t change what I’m doing.”
“How can it not?”
“Because loving each other was never the problem.”
The refrigerator hummed behind us.
Tomorrow’s schedule was held beneath a magnet.
Radio.
Fitting.
Rehearsal.
Dinner with Richard.
At the bottom, in Claire’s handwriting:
Pick up dry cleaning.
Even her reminder had been fitted into the edges of my day.
“We can fix this,” I said.
“How?”
“I’ll talk to Richard.”
“And say what?”
“That I’m done pretending you’re my assistant.”
“That would have mattered two years ago.”
“I’ll bring you to events.”
“I don’t want to arrive as a correction.”
“That isn’t what I’m offering.”
“You don’t know what you’re offering. You only know you don’t want me to leave.”
“That should matter.”
“It does.”
“Then stay.”
“No.”
