My husband came back three days later, ashamed and repentant. I forgave him and mostly forgot. It was only much later that I remembered how it had been that third afternoon when I first started to really hear my friend’s voice saying, Maybe it’s for the best, that my sisters and I had walked to get iced coffees and brought them home to watch bad television in bed, that I had made plans that night with friends he didn’t know as well, that I had decided to go to the library the next day for new books to read. I would have gotten over it then, I realized years after the fact, when I started understanding I would have to get over it now in a much different way.