Page 48 of Homewrecker

My irritation eased just enough for concern to slip in. “What happened?”

“She came home upset.”

“About?”

“Everything.”

I looked toward my bedroom door like Ravenna might somehow be standing outside it.

“This is something you should be talking to somebody else about.”

“I know.”

“Your brother. Your mother. A therapist.”

“I know.”

I frowned at the phone. “Then why me?”

“Because you don’t need anything from me.”

I quickly breezed over what he said.

“Is she okay?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

“She’s inside.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I checked on her before I came out.”

I rubbed my forehead. “Did you argue?”

“Yeah.”

“About separation?”

He hesitated. “Mostly.”

“She still doesn’t want it?”

“She says she does.”

I frowned. “But?”

“Then when I actually talk about what it looks like, she panics.”

“What does it look like?”

“Me moving out.”

“Have you found somewhere?”

“No.”