“Alex, be reasonable. Our children are grown up and gone. We're adults. What do I do here? Nothing. I cook dinner for you at night. I have nothing else to do all day. I was dying of boredom before I went back to school.” His charade had gotten more ridiculous every day. It was all about his ego and controlling her. He wanted to know that he could make her do what he wanted. But he had pushed it too far, even for her.

“I'm sorry you're so bored being married to me, Faith.”

“I didn't say that. I just don't have a lot to do anymore. You know that. It's not a secret. You wanted me to take bridge lessons and take classes at the museum. This makes more sense.”

“Not to me.”

“What about Washington?” she said, cutting to the chase. He had said it all before, and she was tired of listening to it, and lying in the dirt on her face at his feet, apologizing to him. It was getting old, to her, if not to him.

“Do what you want.”

“What does that mean?” She wanted to know from him how high a price she would have to pay. How angry would it make him, how severely would she be punished? She would probably go anyway, she had decided, but she wanted a glimpse at the price tag before she did.

“It means that you do what you want in any case. Go ahead and do it, at your own risk and peril.” It was a thinly veiled threat, and as usual, it pushed a button with her.

“I'm so tired of this, Alex. I haven't committed a crime, for God's sake. I haven't been unfaithful to you. I haven't abandoned you, or our children. Why the hell do you have to act as though I did?”

“You're insane,” he said with a look of disgust as he stood up, and prepared to leave the room.

“If I am, you're making me that way.”

“Don't blame me if you don't like the consequences of your actions.”

“Okay, I won't,” she said firmly. “I'm going to Washington. I'll be gone for four days. You can call me if you need me. And I'll leave you all the food you can eat.”

“Don't bother, I'll eat out,” he said through clenched teeth.

“You don't have to. I'll leave you dinners for four days. Then you have a choice if you want to eat in or out.” He didn't say another word, just turned on his heel and walked out.

She didn't even e-mail Brad or Zoe about it. The scene had been so humiliating and frustrating, she didn't want to tell anyone. She was dealing with it herself. And the morning she left, she said good-bye to him, and he didn't answer her. He just continued reading his newspaper and acted as though she didn't exist. If it was designed to make her feel guilty, it had the opposite effect. It just made her angry, and relieved to be out of the house. She felt as though she'd just been let out of jail when she walked out with her backpack, one small duffel, and her computer in its case over her arm. She was taking it with her, to work on, and so she could communicate easily with Zoe and Brad. But it felt great to leave.

More than half the members of her class were going on the field trip. They met at La Guardia and caught a shuttle to Reagan National Airport in Washington, D.C. They were staying in a small hotel on Massachusetts Avenue that was full of foreign students and minor businessmen from overseas. Just being there seemed exciting to Faith, and late that afternoon, after spending time at the Smithsonian and the Library of Congress, she was thrilled she had come. And she already had an idea for the paper she was going to write when she got home. She started making notes for it in her hotel room that night, and plugged in her computer to work for a while, after they had dinner in an Indian restaurant. She had spent an hour talking to the professor, it was the woman she liked so much, and she got into a fascinating discussion with some of her fellow students about the Constitution and the validity of the laws it upheld. It led to a heated battle about the First Amendment, and by the time Faith got to her room, she was exhilarated and inspired. She was typing rapidly on the computer, when it signaled her that she had an e-mail. It was from Brad.

“Hi, Fred … so how's the Judicial Process? Have you done away with it yet? Having fun? I love D.C. Had a girlfriend there when I went to college, she was the daughter of the French ambassador. Used to visit her there, never had so much fun in my life. Tried to fix Jack up with her sister, but he was so outrageous, he scared her to death. So what are you up to? Nice people? Good prof?

“All is well here. Busy days. Trial next week. My secretary informs me it's Valentine's Day next week. The day when you remember someone you love, and realize they've forgotten you, or something like that. Flowers and chocolates. Hay fever and cavities. I seem to be losing my spirit of romance. I would take Pam out to dinner, except she would probably bring two hundred friends and insist I wear black tie. I figure I'll work, and tell her I forgot. She'll probably forget too. I'm rambling. Back to work. Keep in touch. If you run for president, let me know. You'll get my vote for sure. More soon. Love, Brad.”

She loved hearing from him. He always made her laugh, or at least smile. And his blurb about Valentine's Day reminded her that she wanted to send candy to the girls. She was sure Alex wouldn't mention the day to her, he never did. They were hardly in Valentine mode anymore, particularly lately. The day no longer meant much to her.

The rest of the trip to Washington was fascinating, and continued at a brisk pace. They went to museums, libraries, universities, gathering data and information to illustrate their course. And it was only on the last morning that they ran into a major snag. They still had a final day to complete, and a last night. But the teacher got an emergency call, her mother had been taken to the hospital. She'd had a stroke and was not expected to live. She got the call on her cell phone, and was understandably upset and said she had to leave. She urged the others to complete the day and remaining night. They weren't due to go home until the following afternoon. It was Friday morning by then anyway. And they weren't due back in New York until late Saturday. But by the time she made the announcement, Faith realized that she had completed all she had to do. She had more than enough for her paper, and more than half the group decided to go home. Without their leader to direct them, they rapidly lost steam. Some of them decided to stay without her, but Faith was among the group that opted to leave at noon. It also allowed her to spend the whole weekend with Alex, which she hoped would redeem her after being gone for three days. He hadn't called her once, or returned her daily calls, since she left.

She picked up her things at the hotel, and took a cab to National with five of her classmates. They caught a shuttle home, and were back in New York at two. It was perfect. She could get home, organize her papers, and cook him a nice dinner as a peace offering. She stopped at the market on the way home, and let herself into the house shortly after three. She was carrying two bags of groceries and set them down in the kitchen, along with all her other bags and belongings. She felt like she had been gone for weeks. And as she looked around the kitchen, she was surprised to see that it was admirably neat. She wondered if he had eaten out every night after all. And as she set the bags down on the floor, she noticed a pair of shoes under a chair. They were high-heeled black satin pumps, and she didn't own any like them. But more surprising, as she picked one up and looked at it closely, was that it was several sizes larger than hers. Her heart began to pound when she saw it, and with a sick feeling in her stomach, she walked upstairs.

The bed in their bedroom had been hastily made, with the bedspread thrown over the unmade bed. And when she pulled it back, she almost instantly spotted a black lace brassiere, and as she looked down, there was a matching pair of thong underwear, seemingly hastily discarded on the floor. She was suddenly overwhelmed by a sick feeling, and sat down on the bed, feeling faint. This couldn't be happening to her. There was no way to explain it, except for the obvious. This wasn't a house-guest, or a daughter, or anyone she could explain to herself. Alex had had a woman in the house while she was gone. And when she walked into her bathroom, there were cosmetics all over her dressing table, of a brand she didn't wear, and there was long black hair in the sink. There was no way she could paint a prettier picture for herself as she saw another pair of shoes, and a sweater hanging on the towel rack. And all she could do, as she looked at two dresses and three unfamiliar suits in her closet, was cry. It hadn't even been a one-night stand. Whoever the woman was who was staying with Alex, she had obviously moved in for the entire four days.

And then with a sudden feeling of terror, she realized that they would be coming back that night, maybe even that afternoon.

Without even thinking clearly, she ran down the stairs, after throwing the bedspread over the bed the way it had been, and leaving everything else undisturbed. And she was careful to turn off the lights. She ran back into the kitchen, grabbed all her bags, including the two bags of groceries she'd purchased, and left the house. She dropped the two bags of groceries into a trash can on the street, and hailed a cab, with no idea whatsoever where to go. There was no friend she wanted to confess this nightmare to, no place to take refuge, and with no idea what else to do, she asked the driver to take her to the Carlyle Hotel two blocks away, and sat in the backseat and cried.

“That's all?” The driver looked at her, confused. It was so close, she could have walked.

“Yes, yes,” she said, in total disarray, “just go.” She was terrified that she would run into Alex and the woman as they came home. But the worst of all was that it was her home too. He had defiled their home, and their bed. All she could think of as they drove up Madison was the sight of the brassiere and the thong. And all she wanted was to die. It was the ultimate payback for her trip to Washington, if that was what he had intended. But what she also realized as they stopped at the hotel, and the doorman opened the door for her, was that this couldn't have been a new woman to Alex. He wouldn't have moved a stranger into the house for four days. He must have been having an affair with her for a while. Faith felt sick as the doorman asked her if she was checking in, and she said yes.