I didn’t want to salvage the life we’d had, and I’d already done the last double-back to make up with him that I would ever do. I did want more information, though. I wanted to know what he was up to for Saturday, and I wanted to understand why. But I knew that I was no longer interested in fixing things between us. Then I realized I had known it an hour earlier when I’d changed clothes. I’d put up with Victor to get into my office, blessedly too swamped with a gaggle of new interns to give me much of a hassle, but I didn’t make it through the day there. I claimed a migraine and left early. I didn’t suffer from migraines, but no one seemed to mark my inaugural complaint with anything more than distracted tut-tutting and standard government-issue sympathy. I tried running errands. I bought a roll of stamps we didn’t need. I gassed up the car and took advantage of the pennies-per-gallon discount for adding in a wash with my fill-up. It was only practical. So, the car was clean and I’d shaved another four minutes off my spinning.
