True to her nature, Cathy had already offered John snacks and drinks of water twice by the time Lucy bounded down the stairs at 3:58. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. If he stayed in the basement apartment as was his usual habit, she would have no problem. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. “You know about my scandalous past?” “Very little. Somehow.
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