Chapter 6: The Condo

The service door on thirty-one was open, as he had said.

I let myself into the condo and stood in the dark kitchen with my coat on.

Everything was where I had left it on Tuesday morning.

My cup was in the sink and my reading glasses were on the counter.

The city glittered through the glass wall in the living room, and Nolan was standing in front of it with his back to me.

He had taken off his jacket and tie.

"I came for my things," I said.

"They're in the bedroom," he said, without turning. "I haven't touched anything."

"Then I'll get them."

"Avery."

I stopped in the doorway.

"You told me Friday," I said. "You promised me. Secret until the vote, and then a real dinner, and you'd tell your father with me beside you."

"I know what I promised."

"Look at the clock, Nolan. The vote is three weeks away, and you can't even call me your wife in a supply closet."

He turned around.

His face was bare in a way I had only seen in the dark.

"Then don't be my wife in the supply closet," he said. "Be it here."

I should have walked into the bedroom, collected my mother's folder and left.

Instead I took one step toward him, and then another.

"This doesn't change the divorce," I said.

"No," he said.

"I mean it."

"I know you do."

He crossed the floor.

His hands took my face, and his mouth came down hard on mine.

I kissed him back with four months of waiting and one humiliating afternoon behind it.

I bit his lower lip, and he made a sound low in his chest and backed me into the cold glass.

The window rang softly against my shoulder blades.

"You said the window," I said against his mouth.

"I did."

He dropped to his knees in front of me.

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