The nights I checked meters.
The times I apologized to Adrian even though I could not explain what I had supposedly done wrong.
That hurt more than the doubled bill.
But the strange thing was, I did not want the marriage back.
Knowing the truth did not make me think:
If only we had discovered this sooner.
Margaret had not caused every problem between Adrian and me.
That would have been too simple.
We had failed each other in our own ways.
He avoided conflict.
I stored resentment until it came out badly.
We stopped being partners long before the papers were signed.
But knowing Margaret had contributed to one of our oldest fights gave both of us something useful.
Accuracy.
Several months later, Adrian came to pick up the children after they returned from my mother’s.
He stood on the porch while they ran around gathering forgotten bags.
He glanced toward Margaret’s house.
“She still mad?”
“Yes.”
“At you or me?”
“Everyone.”
He smiled.
Then became serious.
“I’ve been thinking about those old bills.”
“Don’t.”
“I need to say something.”
I waited.
“I should have believed you when you said something didn’t add up.”
I looked at him.
