ELENA

I dropped onto the couch in the living room later that evening, remote already in my hand. The TV flickered on to my favorite crime drama, the one with the detective who always figured everything out. I sank deeper into the cushions, letting the sound fill the room. Dominic had told me to handle Andrea’s laundry. I hadn’t touched it. Not a single piece. Let her wait. Let her wonder.

The show helped. For a little while, I forgot about the sauce on her skirt, the way she’d stripped ...