AARON Lucas launched himself off the couch and hurried toward Elena, bare feet tapping fast against the floor. “I’m going to color me jumping into the lake!” Excitement spilled out of him as his hands reached for the tablet. A smile came without effort. Standing made room. Tablet passed over. He slid into the warm space on the couch, settled like it was made for him. Stylus came free with a soft click. Lines appeared almost immediately. Focus claimed him completely. Tongue pressed to the corner of his mouth. Brows drew together. World narrowed to color, shape, and motion. That look always eased something deep in my chest. Breathing slowed. Noise in my head softened. Elena’s hand rested on my shoulder. Head turned. Smile stayed by habit alone. Her face told the real story. Eyes tight. Mouth set. Something heavy sat behind her gaze. “Can we talk?” Voice stayed low, careful not to travel. A nod followed. Palm tapped the cushion beside me. She sat but did not lean in. Attention drifted straight to Nathan and Lucas. Nathan crouched close, finger pointing at the screen. Suggestions flew. Corrections followed. Argument sparked quickly. Boats needed water. Water needed waves. Color mattered. Unicorn pink versus mutant green. Serious business. Elena watched longer than needed. Brow creased. Thoughts clearly turning over and over. Her gaze slid toward the window, toward the path the others had taken earlier. Chin dipped. Eyes fixed on the empty space between us. Words formed. Never left my mouth. Her head lifted. Eyes locked onto mine. Firm. Uncompromising. Whatever came next was already decided. Silence stretched thin. Then, barely louder than breath, “Did you have an affair with Marianne?” Air vanished. Chest tightened hard. Shock landed first. Then anger. Confusion followed close behind. Heat rushed up my neck and into my face. Eyes flicked to Nathan without thinking. He looked absorbed, finger tapping the tablet while Lucas defended his artistic vision. Hard to tell if anything had reached him. Distance suddenly felt too small. Hand reached for Elena’s. “Can we talk in the back room?” Voice stayed low. Head tilted toward the dinette. Grip never came. Her hand pulled away fast. “Our son stays where I can see him.” Heart began to pound. Blood rushed loud in my ears. “Then please, another time.” Words came tight. “Not now.”One shake of her head. “Marriage isn’t something to hide. Vows were made in front of family, friends, and God. Talking about it doesn’t shame me.” Movement caught my eye. Thought Nathan’s head turned. When I looked again, he was still focused on Lucas, fully engaged, finger tapping the screen in rhythm with the boy’s words. Breath came in shaky. Adrenaline burned hot. “Marianne and I are friends. Nothing happened.” Her eyes narrowed. “Then why did you smell like her perfume when you came home?” Each word pushed out through clenched teeth. Everything inside wanted to break open. Hands itched to rise. Voice wanted to climb. Too much already lived under my skin. The memory of killing a man still sat close, raw and unfinished. None of that belonged here. None of it would help. Face turned away. Just a second. Enough to gather myself.“This isn’t the time.” Voice stayed quiet. “Please.” “I don’t care if the sky is falling.” Her gaze slid past me, out the window. “I won’t stay with a man who betrayed our vows.” Shoulders sagged. Fight drained out all at once. Head dropped. “I never did anything with her.” Words cracked despite the effort. “I swear to God. Nothing happened.” She swallowed. Tears rose fast, bright and sharp. Hand shot up, wiping them away before they could fall. A small nod followed, stiff and forced, like she was making herself accept it. Eyes came back to mine. Pain stretched her face thin. “Did you want to?” Breath caught again. Feelings collided all at once. Frustration pressed against guilt. Beneath it all sat the need to calm her, to steady her, to make the fear leave her eyes. Truth mattered more than pride here. Marianne and I had worked together for years. Campaigns. Offices. Long days that blurred into nights. That kind of work pulled people close. Short phrases replaced full sentences. Looks carried meaning. Familiar rhythm set in. Understanding came easily. Elena had reasons to feel uneasy. Marianne was attractive. Smart. Capable. Someone who could have run for office herself one day. Concern made sense. Romantic feelings never existed. She was married. Maybe unhappy. Still unavailable. Same went for me. Lines stayed clear. Work stayed work. Many men might not have thought that way. That truth was not lost on me. Still, the answer remained simple. Elena was the only woman I had ever wanted. That certainty settled the moment we met during The Tempest, sophomore year. Standing on that set, something locked into place. Marriage was not a dream or a plan. It was a fact waiting for time to catch up. No desire ever formed for Marianne because nothing was missing. Marriage carried cracks. Every marriage did. Arguments happened. Disagreements lingered longer than they should. Some nights the air conditioning ran so cold the house felt like a meat locker, and I would never understand why. None of it ever touched how much I loved her. Not once.