Dawn queried as I returned home. She stood at the kitchen island, positioned as if a store mannequin before the granite countertop as she worked on her notebook computer. She still wore her blouse and skirt from a long day at Macy’s, but was answering e-mail from her college prep business. As she click-clacked away in response, she scratched an itch on her calf with the other foot, her blue Steve Madden pumps resting on their sides where she’d discarded them. “Too long,” I answered, having recently felt the sting from Ava’s scratches on my back as I exited the car. My stomach lurched as pangs of guilt swept over me. I wished Dawn had worked until closing tonight. Would’ve given me a better chance of gathering myself. “Did you win?” she asked. She pushed her laptop away from the island’s edge then came closer. I knew my wife’s mannerisms well enough. Seduction was on her mind, but she never had to work hard at it with me. I was always willing, except for tonight. Things were different.
