The invitation hung in the sterile office air, not as a question, but as a seismic event. Linsy stood frozen, the porcelain coffee cup she’d just set down seeming to vibrate with the absurdity of his words. A dinner. A movie. The mundane rituals of ordinary couples felt, in the context of their marriage, as fantastical and improbable as a moon landing.

When had Michael Helwart ever had time for a movie? The silent question screamed in her mind. In seven years of contractual union, their ...