The Diary of an Unloved Wife novel · Chapter 21 of 24

Chapter 21: The Back Row

I read his name on the list twice.

Then I forwarded it to Malachy with no message.

He came down two flights in his socks four minutes later and stood in my doorway.

"You could ask them to take him off," he said.

"I could."

"But you won't."

"It's open to the public," I said. "He's the public now."

Malachy leaned on my doorframe and grinned at me.

"God help him," he said.

The symposium was on the last Saturday in April, in the old lecture hall on the ground floor.

It had steep wooden rows, a long table at the front, and windows full of new green leaves from Washington Square.

I was the third speaker of the morning.

I sat at the long table with my pages in a folder and my hands flat on top of it.

The hall was nearly full.

Most of them were historians, and some were students, and a few were people who'd seen the video of the reading room.

Malachy's mother was in the second row.

She'd come in on the subway from Woodside in her church coat, with a foil package on her knees.

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