On Halloween, My Husband Bet I'd Never Leave Him, So I Stopped Waiting novel · Chapter 11 of 24

Chapter 11: Gwen's Kitchen

Gwen read the lawyer's letter standing at her kitchen counter with a spatula in her other hand.

"Infidelity," she said. "You haven't even kissed the man."

"Don't say it like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you think I should."

She put the spatula down, took a long look at me and folded her arms.

"Sylvia. Sixteen years ago you came to my birthday dinner and told me that Russell's lawyer had been kind to you at the funeral. You've mentioned that man's kindness every Christmas since."

"I have not."

"You have, and you do it quietly, and you think I don't count." She leaned on the counter. "Tell me the truth. Do you want him?"

I looked at the letter.

My cheeks were hot, and I was forty-one years old.

"Yes," I said. "I think I've wanted someone to be kind to me for seventeen years, and he's the one who was."

Gwen raised both fists over her head.

"Finally."

"This is not a victory."

"It's a small one, and I'll take it." She picked up my coat and held it out. "Go and ask him what the letter means. He said any hour, and it's nine o'clock."

"He made a rule."

"Then go and see what he does with it."

The Penfield office occupied the second floor of a stone building off the town green.

A single light was lit upstairs, and I took the stairs with the letter folded in my fist.

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