From the bed, he could see that she had swept up the broken glass and sopped up the wine, which had left behind a grotesque stain. He stood up, feeling sick to his stomach, and crossed the room, returning to the empty hallway. He reentered the living room and kitchen and found that Deb, along with many of her things, was gone.

He made it back to the bedroom doorway before finally losing control. He slid down against the wall and collapsed into a crouched position, burying his head in his hands. His mind raced as the truths he had tried to deny for so long came flooding back—moments that had threatened to shake his faith in their relationship: too many late nights at the office, the faint scent of cologne clinging to her shirt collar as she walked into the apartment, phone calls that would end the m...

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