trees.»
He’d spent ten minutes lecturing our seven-year-old about responsible spending.
Meanwhile, Julianne’s company received $186,000.
«What was she consulting on?»
Nathan shook his head.
«No idea.»
«She teaches Pilates.»
«Then she’s unusually well compensated for consulting on logistics procurement.»
That evening, I opened Lily’s closet.
Her little shoes lined the floor.
Soccer cleats.
Rain boots.
Pink sneakers marked on one side where she’d attempted to write her name.
I sat on the carpet.
And finally cried about David.
Not over the affair.
Or the money.
Or even his
