“It is,” I manage.

It’s really not her fault at all. She never stirred the pot with Kate. No, she kept this thing between us quiet and discreet until I spoiled it, bragging about my new love to the wrong guys. Tish was great with my daughter from the get-go, making sure Ashlyn knew she had a friend. She didn’t have to be nice to Ashlyn—she did it because it was the right thing to do. And she helped smooth things out. At least, for a while.

It was so easy to fall in love with Tish. And she needed love. I could tell something was missing, something happened in her childhood in the backwoods of Kentucky. She won’t talk about it, but you can sense it, want to fix it. I thought I could fill that hole, and in return, she would bring me the peace I lacked in my life. We didn’t have all that history between us, not like Kate and me toward the end. Kate and I had nothing but fights, and company problems, and a teenage daughter tearing us apart.

And Tish? I suppose she pulled us apart without trying. Being there, being so damn there with her perky breasts, short skirts, always just smiling at me no matter how terse I was, no matter how frustrated I was with Kate. Tish was like running away to a private Caribbean island in the midst of stress and grown-up problems. A temptation I was too weak to ignore.

It’s not her fault. It’s all mine.

“Look at that waterfall.” Tish points into the mountains, and I pretend to care.

“Pretty.” I am such a fool. I threw everything I had away for pretty.

I remember telling Ashlyn I’d found true love. I’d moved out of our home, away from Ashlyn and Kate, and into a flashy condo on the sixteenth floor, overlooking the city. Tish loved it. Ashlyn hated every inch of the space.

“This is what people live in when they’re young, just starting out,” she’d scoffed, all sixteen years of wisdom looking at me with disdain as she walked in the door. How could she possibly know anything? She didn’t. I mean, the condo was no starter pad. I’d been there, done that with Kate, complete with cockroaches and mice in the kitchen drawer.

I’ll never forget that moment. Kate’s scream was so loud and urgent I thought someone was in the tiny kitchen murdering her. I ran from the front room into the kitchen to find my newlywed wife frozen.

“There’s something in there. With bright-red eyes.” She pointed to the closed kitchen drawer, her finger trembling.

I yanked the drawer open, revealing our measly collection of thrift shop silverware and nothing else.

“It’s gone.” I smiled. The hero.

“It’ll be back,” she answered, still shaking. “We have to move. Find another apartment. Or never use that drawer. All of those drawers.”

Kate was like that. Take charge. All or nothing. Black and white. Fearless in life and business. She went from top of her class at UCLA to running one of the best start-ups in the country. She was successful in everything she touched.

Until we started fighting about everything. Until I began to resent the fact that she was always right. Until I couldn’t bear it. Until I betrayed her.

Back then, I was her knight in shining armor, even though she didn’t need one. Except to handle the mice.

“We can’t afford to move. I’ll tape up the drawers.” I knew better than to come up with a solution that involved pesticides. She’d never agree to that. Or to a trap. And so we’d lived there another year, with taped-up drawers and hundreds of mice running throughout the old apartment’s walls. And we were so happy. Some days we’d be working so long, so intently, we’d forget to eat. Who needs silverware when you’re in love and building a business?

I had three drawers of real silver in the new penthouse Ashlyn stood inside that day. I shook my head, indignant at the time. How could she understand? She was only sixteen.

“This is a sophisticated penthouse, the finest on the market downtown. It’s certainly not a starter apartment, Ash.”

“You’re clearly having a midlife crisis.”

I held my ground. “No, that’s not true. I found my soul mate. I hope you’re as happy for me as I am. Tish and I are moving in together.” I didn’t even have a doubt as I told my daughter this. Not then.

Ashlyn had been seated on the sleek white leather sofa facing the view of the downtown skyline, but she stood and yelled: “Your soul mate just happens to be your assistant? Come on. You looked far and wide, not really of course, and suddenly your soul mate materialized at that desk. It was karma, is that it?” Ashlyn was angry, sure, but I wanted her to understand. To realize how happy I was. “Your soul mate babysat me! She’s four years older than me. Oh my god.”

When Ashlyn left, slamming the door behind her, I didn’t worry. We had a great father-daughter relationship, and it would be fine between the two of us. Ashlyn and I were close when she was growing up. I was the fun parent, the one who said yes when Kate said no. The dad who volunteered at school, who went on the sixth-grade campout. The dad who stuck up for his daughter when she was accused of cheating on a test. “My daughter would never,” I’d said to the prune-faced principal. Ashlyn’s face had been streaked with tears, afraid. I didn’t even need to ask her if it was true. I would make it false.

“This is preposterous,” I’d said, and watched Ashlyn relax against the chair. “I’m taking her home.” And I did. We even stopped for a scoop of Jeni’s ice cream. Lavender. Our favorite. The next morning in class, her teacher apologized, and Ashlyn’s straight-A record was intact. I always wondered if those grades were for her, for me, or for her mom. Doesn’t matter, I guess.

Just like back then, I knew how to win over my daughter. She’d be happy for me. She would come around. Ashlyn and Tish had fun together. I’d witnessed it firsthand. Once she was over the shock of it all, she’d be fine.

And I was in love with a beautiful young woman who adored me. Win-win, I thought.

I shake my head at the memory. That day, like many others, did not go as planned. I’ve been so wrong.

“Earth to John.” Tish stares at me. What did I miss? What did I mess up? A neon-blue butterfly floats between us and glides away through the deep grass of the valley. I wish I could follow.

I need to take a break. From everything. “Can we sit? There’s a picnic spot just around the bend.”

Tish turns to keep walking in the lead. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out.

Text: I’m worried about you. Call me?

Well, that’s sweet. My heart thumps with excitement.

I text: I’m fine ? back tomorrow.

“What are you doing? Texting during our hike? Who is so important?” Tish grabs at my phone, but I delete the texts and shove the phone into my pocket. I’m tired of her snooping, of her trying to get into my business. She tries to control everything.

“It’s none of your business!” I yell too loudly, and now I’m dizzy. Damn it. I feel my legs buckle and I hit the trail with a thud, landing on my knees before sitting down. That’ll be two big bruises on my kneecaps, but I learned my lesson last time I toppled over up here. Bend your knees and drop. It’s more than nine thousand feet.

Tish’s shadow falls over my face. “We are a team. We’re married. We’re in love. We worked together until yesterday. We share everything. You are my business. I don’t appreciate sharing your attention during our romantic weekend.”

I don’t appreciate her tone. I must admit I don’t appreciate her much at all anymore. I force myself back to my feet, dusting the trail dirt off my shorts. “You’re right, dear. We are married.” For right now. But not for much longer. Suddenly it’s all clear. I’ll make it through this weekend and then beg Kate to take me back if she’ll have me. Will she?

No, stop, I’m getting ahead of myself. First things first. I need to calm down. I take a deep breath and gaze at the top of the majestic mountains, jagged blue peaks against a forever sky.

I wish I were alone, with time to think. I would take a leisurely stroll through the old town of Telluride, a town wedged into a box canyon surrounded by cliffs. Or go white-water rafting, or relax in the golf clubhouse after a round. But I’m not alone. I just need to get through this weekend with the least amount of stress. Once we’re back home, I’ll make my play. I’ll move out, get some space.

Fix things with my real family.

In the past few weeks, Kate and I have been laughing together again. We’ve even sneaked away to a couple of lunches, couching them as business appointments. I’ve been swinging by her office, catching up, making plans. We’ve reconnected, I think.

Was it too much to hope for that Kate might even forgive me one day and take me back?

I remember our last meal together. Kate and I sat in the corner of what used to be our favorite restaurant, almost like nothing had changed although everything had.

“John, you don’t look good,” Kate said.