A contractor missed deadlines?
Replace the contractor.
Problems became bearable when converted into steps.
Marriage had never cooperated.
Vivian continued more quietly.
“I need to know whether what’s missing is us or me.”
Ethan looked back.
“And dating men does that?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know.”
“No.”
“Then why is that the experiment?”
“Because I need to feel something different.”
The sentence hurt more than he expected.
He tried not to show it.
Vivian saw anyway.
Her expression softened.
“I don’t mean I feel nothing for you.”
“That is not better.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No. Tonight I want you to assume I know nothing.”
She rubbed her forehead.
“I feel like I’ve disappeared into this life.”
Ethan looked around the kitchen.
The house had been remodeled largely according to Vivian’s choices.
Her business occupied the converted carriage building behind the garage.
Her photographs covered the upstairs hall.
The art came from galleries she loved.
He nearly pointed all of that out.
Then stopped.
Possessions were not identity.
That argument would have been cheap.
Instead he asked, “How long have you been thinking about this?”
“A while.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not true.”
“Months.”
“How many?”
“Maybe six.”
Ethan’s stomach tightened.
Six months.
He thought back.
Trips.
Dinners.
Her phone turned facedown more often.
A new password on her tablet after years of using the same one.
Weekends she spent “with clients.”
He hated himself immediately for thinking like that.
He looked toward the suitcase again.
“Where are you staying?”
Vivian’s pause was too long.
“A hotel.”
“Which?”
“Why?”
“Because my wife is leaving our house to date other people, and I’m apparently supposed to treat her destination as private?”
“I’m not disappearing.”
“Which hotel?”
“The Corwin.”
It was downtown.
Luxury.
Expensive.
Ethan knew it because Vivian had arranged events there.
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
“A week?”
“Maybe.”
“Two?”
“I said I don’t know.”
“And what exactly happens during this time?”
Vivian’s shoulders stiffened.
“What do you mean?”
“You date.”
“Maybe.”
“You sleep with people.”
She did not answer.
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
“That’s a yes.”
“I am not asking you to approve every detail.”
“No.”
His voice changed.
“You’re not asking me anything.”
She stared.
He continued.
“You already booked the hotel.”
“You packed.”
“I assume you’ve already spoken to whoever you plan to see.”
Vivian looked away.
That was another answer.
Ethan felt something settle inside him.
Not calm.
Decision.