She held my face in both hands for a second, then let go.
I still didn’t know what I’d find at the end of that drive.
I only knew my husband had lied about where he was.
I could pretend.
***
For the first hour, I kept the radio off and watched flat farmland slide past the windows. I thought about the first time Greg called me his country girl. We’d been dating four months.
I’d changed a flat tire in a parking garage in heels, and he’d laughed. ‘Look at you, country girl.’
I’d taken it as a compliment then.
Somewhere along the way, it had become his way of reminding me which one of us he thought was smarter.
She just stared at me.
At a rest stop, I pulled over and sat with my hands on the wheel. I could still turn around.
Greg could come home the next day, kiss my forehead, and I could pretend I hadn’t seen his SUV in Rachel’s driveway.
