“I have to agree.”

“He’s such an asshole. He called my mother and told her I was sleeping around on him.”

“Nina . . . did you ever tell Jacob what happened last winter?” It was time to remind her client of her infidelity, if in fact the last time she’d stepped out of her marriage was so many months ago.

“No. Of course not.”

“Do you think Jacob might have picked up on anything? You were very conflicted over the holidays.”

Nina removed her sunglasses and revealed dark circles from either a lack of sleep or tears.

“Do you think he knows?”

“What I think isn’t important. Consider this. You had an affair. And not just a one-night stand, but something that lasted for several weeks. You told me yourself how guilty you felt, and when it ended, you dedicated yourself to your husband with renewed energy. Didn’t you both go to Hawaii in January as a second honeymoon?”

Nina nodded.

“You returned and within a month you were both in here struggling again.”

“That’s because he is unreasonable when I want to go out with my friends.” Her defensiveness was palpable.

“What happens when you go out with your friends?”

“We drink . . . we dance.”

“Get picked up on?”

“If guys are attracted, I can’t help that.”

“I didn’t say you could. How does it make you feel when guys come on to you?”

Nina started tapping her foot against the air. “It doesn’t suck. It’s nice to get dressed up sometimes and feel like a woman.”

“Do you do those things with Jacob?” Mary already knew the answer to that but asked the question anyway.

“Jacob hates going out. Says he did enough of that when he was single.”

“So you go out without him and men try and pick you up?”

“That doesn’t mean I’m sleeping with them.”

Mary sat forward. “We’ve talked about this. Being unfaithful in your marriage is more than just an act of sex.”

“I’m not falling in love with them either.”

“Nina, I’m not asking you these things to corner you into saying something, or believing something. I’m asking you these things so you can look inside yourself and ask some important questions.” Because her sitting in front of Mary and denying everything was a massive flag of bullshit. If Nina was her friend and not a client, she’d call her on said bull in a heartbeat. Nina was doing her best to destroy her marriage on her end. “Do you wear your wedding ring when you go out, Nina?”

Her client lowered her eyes to her left hand and started to twist her wedding bands.

She didn’t answer the question.

Mary walked out of her office after seven. It was nearly dark, and she was exhausted. She checked her cell phone for messages as she walked to her car. Glen didn’t call her before she made it into work, but he’d texted her around three apologizing and saying he’d call her later that night at home.

She tucked her phone back in her purse once she realized there wasn’t any pending message. The thought of her favorite Mediterranean takeout, which happened to be on her route home, put a smile on her face. Rotisserie chicken sounded perfect.

Then she turned the key and her car moaned with a weak response. The light in the cab dimmed and her stomach dropped.

She tried again.

The noise in the engine, or lack of noise, and the fact that the dash didn’t light up, told her it was her battery.

The lights in her car automatically turned off and on so long as she didn’t override the switch. So why had it drained? The car was only a few years old, with less than thirty thousand miles on her.

Mary pushed open her door and popped the hood. Not that she knew what she was looking at. Most of the engine in the car was covered by a massive shield. There were bits sticking out here and there, but nothing that she could see was obviously wrong. She glanced around the nearly vacant parking lot and wondered if there was anyone in the building still around to give her a jump.

“It had to happen on a late night,” she said to herself.

With the hood still up, she leaned back into her car and removed her purse. Her AAA card sat behind her driver’s license. She pulled it out and started to dial.

A pair of headlights turned in her direction and started to drive away. Probably for the best, she didn’t like attracting strangers while standing alone in a parking lot.

“Triple A roadside assistance. How can I help you?”

“I think my battery is dead.”

The car in the lot slowed to a stop behind her car.

“Where is your location?”

Mary rattled off the address, kept her eye on the car behind her.

“Do you need help?” The voice from the driver asked through a rolled down passenger window.

Mary leaned down to see the person. “I’m calling Triple A.”

“Okay . . . wait, Mary?”

Mary peered closer. “Kent?”

“Ma’am?”

“I’m sorry, just a minute,” she told the woman on the phone.

Kent left his engine running and got out of his car. “What happened?”

“I think it’s the battery.”

Kent thumbed in the direction of his car. “I have jumper cables.”

“Do you? That would be great.”

“Ma’am? Do you want me to send a driver?”