Every time Vanessa crossed a boundary, Irvin told me about it. Every time she gave him something, he brought it home.
The box slowly filled.
And Vanessa, completely unaware of what was happening, continued her campaign.
One evening, I came home from the grocery store and found her waiting beside my front door.
She was wearing a cream-colored dress, her hair perfectly arranged.
“Rachel, we need to talk.”
“About what?”
“Your marriage.”
I sighed.
“Vanessa, I’m not interested in discussing my marriage with you.”
“That’s exactly the problem. You don’t seem interested in protecting it.”
I stared at her.
“Protecting it from whom?”
She stepped closer.
“From women who still know how to make a man feel alive.”
I almost laughed.
“You mean women who leave scarves in married men’s cars?”
Her cheeks flushed.
“So you know about that.”
“My husband told me.”
She recovered quickly.
“Of course he did. He probably thinks that makes him a good husband.”
