Page 207 of The Marriage Clause

"Brookhaven says my dad's account is covered indefinitely now," I say. "Including outpatient care. Which makes no sense because that wasn't the deal."

Cammy frowns. "So he changed it?"

"Apparently."

"Without telling you."

"Yes."

Penelope's brow creases. "That's not a man who's walking away clean."

"Maybe not." I pick at the edge of my napkin. "But then I saw him."

Both of them go still. Cammy's eyes sharpen. "Where?"

"Downtown. Getting into a town car with Sienna."

"And?" Cammy asks, leaning in.

"And what do you mean, and?"

"I mean, were they kissing? Holding hands? Looking like a Nicholas Sparks adaptation? Give me something here."

"No." My laugh comes out thin. "Which somehow made it worse. They looked like they fell back into old rhythms."

Penelope studies my face. Then, carefully: "What exactly did you see?"

"His hand on her back. He opened the car door. She got in. He got in after her." I swallow. "She was laughing."

Penelope nods slowly but doesn't say what I expect her to say.

I keep talking because if I stop now I'll never get it out.

"He ended things so quickly," I whisper. "Like the second he was allowed to. And then I see him with her and I just..." I press my lips together because if I keep going at this volume I'm going to start crying in the middle of a café and that feels like a humiliation too far. "Sienna was right. Once our agreement was over, they found their way back."

Cammy's mouth tightens.

Penelope is quiet for a second. Then: "Or there's something else going on that you're not seeing yet."

I look at her.

"I'm not defending him," she says. "I'm saying that a man who pays your father's medical bills indefinitely on the same day he leaves you is not a man who's done. That's a man who's doing something he doesn't want to do."

Cammy tilts her head. "Or a man with a guilty conscience."

"Those aren't mutually exclusive," Penelope says.

I try not to keep going. I keep going anyway.

"Why didn't he just choose her to begin with?" I ask. "If he knew he was going back, why bother with me? Why say the things he said? Why move me into his room? Why build all of that if this was always how it ended?"

I glance down at the sandwich. Turkey and brie and apple slices.

My stomach turns over at the idea of eating, and I look away.

"I know I'm supposed to say something wise," Cammy says. "But honestly, right now I mostly want to hit him with my car."

"That's weirdly comforting."