I was supposed to be halfway across the country by evening. Instead, my flight was cancelled—weather, mechanical issues, vague excuses. At first, I was irritated. Then, strangely, relieved. Ethan and I had barely seen each other lately, and the idea of surprising him with a quiet night at home felt almost sweet.
So I took a cab back.
I unlocked the apartment door expecting silence. Instead, a woman stood in my hallway—wearing my robe. Her hair was damp. She held my mug—the blue ceramic one I bought on our first anniversary, the one Ethan always called “too sentimental” to use.....
