The first two had ended up in the kitchen sink as I watched midnight become one o’clock, then two.
There was something strangely peaceful about those final minutes.
It almost felt as though I were waiting for a delayed flight.
Except the thing about to depart was my marriage.
Finally, a key turned in the lock.
Thain stepped inside, bringing a gust of cold Boston air with him.
Beneath it was that familiar sweet floral fragrance.
Lyra’s perfume.
I had smelled it enough times during the previous three months that I could probably have identified it blindfolded.
He looked surprised to find me awake.
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