Stepped out.
His wife looked toward him.
Even from the distance, the husband could see panic.
The boss’s wife turned.
Her husband stopped halfway up the walkway.
Nobody moved.
The husband understood he was watching four lives collide while only three people were visible.
He should have driven away.
Instead he watched.
The boss’s wife said something.
The boss responded.
The red-dressed wife crossed her arms.
Then the boss said something to her.
She recoiled.
Her face changed.
The boss’s wife opened the envelope.
Removed papers.
Held them up.
The boss moved toward her.
She stepped back.
The husband reached for his door handle.
Stopped.
No violence.
Just shouting.
A few seconds later, the boss got back into his car.
His wife shouted after him.
He drove away.
The boss’s wife looked toward the red-dressed woman.
Said something shorter.
Then left too.
His wife remained alone on the driveway.
She turned slowly toward the house.
For the first time since the husband had known her, she looked completely lost.
He drove away before she could see him.
His phone rang at 10:17.
His wife.
He did not answer.
Again.
Again.
Then a text.
Where are you?
Another.
Did you call her?
Then:
What the hell did you do?
The husband sat inside the hotel room while the dog chewed a rubber toy beside him.
He looked at the messages.
Still no apology.
He turned off the phone.
At 6:20 the next morning, somebody knocked on the hotel door.
The dog barked.
The husband looked through the peephole.
His wife.
Not in the red dress.