Ambrose’s car was in the driveway of our big cream and brick-colored house, but when I let myself inside, he wasn’t there.
Not sitting at the table with his laptop and a stack of scholarly journals, or out doing laps in our pool, his long strong arms scything in perfect lines from one end to the other.
Well, damn, where was he? Had he gone on a run?
We were supposed to be training for a half-marathon or something, even though I had little to no interest in that. But if I didn’t try out his hobbies we wouldn’t have anything to do together.
I wandered out to the backyard, morosely sucking on my iced lavender latte.
That’s when I heard it.
A squeaking sound coming from our neighbor’s yard.
Eek, awkward. Astrid must be fucking someone at 3 pm in the afternoon.
I mean, all right. She was recently divorced. The hedge back there between our houses was pretty tall. I guess it wasn’t that strange.
Good thing Ambrose wasn’t here.
He was so stiff and proper that he’d be probably be all furious at the lack of Dignity and Decorum and report them to the HOA.
I wasn’t going to do that. Astrid was a little cold, but she was nice enough. Since she worked in an adjacent department to Ambrose’s, we’d seen each other quite a bit in the last year or so. She wasn’t the easiest person to get to know, but we were casual friends.
After all, that would make an awkward situation to report my next-door neighbor to the HOA.
Then I heard something else.
A deep voice.
I had already turned to go inside, but at that sound I froze.
Wait, what the fuck?
I paused, straining to hear it again.
I was just being ridiculous.
My husband and I were in the process of having ababy. We’d been married for 5 years and were still madly in love.
But then I heard it again.
A gravelly rumble that was different than his usual modulated, cultured tones.
I knew that voice
My heart pounding, I rushed down my manicured lawn.
I wanted to cry out,
Who is that
Who is there
It’s not him, is it
He wouldn’t
He loves me
