Claire walked through the door at six-fifteen. Daniel was at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee that had gone cold an hour ago. He looked up when she entered. She looked up when she saw him. Neither of them said anything for a long time.
Then Claire set her keys on the counter and sat down across from him and said, "I slept with him." Daniel put his cup down. The coffee made a small sound against the saucer. He looked at her face and saw that she was not crying and not angry and not trying to make it sound like anything other than what it was: a fact. "Who?" he said. "Victor." Daniel had met Victor once, at a party two years...
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