Chapter 20: Rule One

She arrived on Monday at six in the morning with one gray suitcase and a plant.

I opened the door in my shirtsleeves.

Adeline stood in the hall in her black coat.

"You said Monday," she said. "You said bring a bag."

"I did."

"I brought a plant, too. I didn't want to leave it with my mother's housekeeper."

"Come in."

I took the suitcase from her, and she let me.

I carried it down the narrow hall to the small back room.

It had been my mother's sewing room.

A single bed stood against the wall, with a quilt my mother had made.

The window looked out on a brick wall and a fire escape.

"This is yours," I said. "It's the guest room."

She looked at the bed, the quilt and the brick wall.

"I've gotten used to guest rooms," she said.

I didn't answer that.

"What are the rules?" she said.

I took a folded sheet from my shirt pocket and handed it to her.

I had written it on Sunday night and crossed out two lines.

In the end I had kept it short.

She read it standing up.

One. You sleep in the guest room.

Two. You ask me for nothing.

Three. You sit where I sit you.

Four. You tell no one about these seven days.

"Nothing," she said. "Not even a glass of water?"

"There's a tap. You fixed it."

The corner of her mouth moved, and she folded the page.

"All right," she said.

"That's it?"

"You said I'd find out what it's like. I'm finding out."

Keep reading free with an account. Start Seven Days to Lose Your Husband from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.