He closed his eyes and waited for the flames to start climbing the walls of his chest. He thought of Grace, asleep in their California king bed with the feather-top mattress. Grace. He pictured her washing the dinner dishes. He pictured lifting up her thick, dark hair and nuzzling the back of her neck, a move from early in their relationship that he had long ago abandoned.

He should have stayed home, eaten the steak and the fingerlings that she had made specially for him. He should have made love to his wife. Tried to make her laugh again. Tried to make her happy again.

But then he reminded himself that the only way he had ever known to make Grace happy was by giving her everything her heart desired.

“That’s why I needed the money,” Eddie said to the man behind him, whom he still could not see. “It was for my wife.”

“Save it for the judge,” the Southie accent said.

“If you let me go, I’ll figure out something different to do for Grace,” Eddie said. “Something better.”

“You can figure it out in prison,” the Southie accent said. “You’ll have plenty of time.”

The girls filed out of the house in a tight line, like they were being marched by Stalin. All of them were crying.

“Eddie!” Nadia cried out.

Instinctively, Eddie tried to free his hands.

“Easy, buddy,” the Southie accent said. He led Eddie toward the back of a black Suburban. Eddie thought of the Chief turning him down for drinks. I have plans tonight. Did the Chief know about this sting? He must have. Eddie had thought they were friends.

You’re a good guy, Eddie. A really good guy.

Realizing just how untrue this was broke Eddie’s burning heart.

GRACE

Something about the article in the Boston Globe changed things for Grace. Seeing the photos of her and Benton and reading the text describing the wonderland they had created together had been so validating. It was a depiction of her private Eden. Grace knew it was crazy, but she felt as if she were the only woman on earth and Benton the only man. When Benton came to the house on Monday, Grace was consumed with a crazy, searing desire. For the first time ever, she pulled him into the garden shed. She kissed him and said, “I’d really like to marry you.”

“One little problem,” Benton said. “You’re already married.”

“I don’t care,” Grace said.

Benton touched her face. “You can’t just up and leave. What about the girls? They need you.”

“This time next year, they’ll be headed to college,” Grace said.

“Yes, but a year is a long time,” Benton said. “You’re not seriously considering leaving Eddie now, are you?”

Was she? If she were in a position to talk it over with Madeline, Madeline would say, You have two children, Grace, and a beautiful home. Are you prepared to give that up? Benton Coe is a talented man, but he has no roots here. He lives in an apartment above his office, he gallivants around the world all winter. He probably doesn’t even have health insurance.

I’m sure he has health insurance, Grace would retort.

She could now picture herself and Benton as a viable couple. Despite what everyone else thought, Grace didn’t require much in the way of creature comforts; she could live out of a backpack. She could handle a winter in Morocco or Palm Beach, someplace warm and exotic, away from her endless responsibilities as a wife and mother.

“I’ll do it,” she said. “I’ll leave at the end of the summer.”

“You’re talking crazy, Grace,” Benton said. “But I like it.” He growled and put his lips to the most sensitive part of her neck.

As they had so many times before, they were making love in the garden shed—until Grace heard Eddie’s voice.

“Grace!”

It was all Grace could do not to shriek. She struggled to get back into her sundress and fix her hair while Benton pulled his shorts up, whispering profanities.

Grace put a finger to her lips. They needed to stay quiet. It sounded like Eddie was on the deck. When he went searching for her elsewhere, she and Benton could slip out. But Eddie wasn’t stupid. Benton’s truck was in the driveway, and Eddie had probably already checked the house, and—here was the worst thought—the gardening shed had four windows, although they were high up and Eddie would need a ladder. But if he got a ladder and peered in the window, he would see them. The longer Grace and Benton waited to open the door, the worse it would look. Every second they waited was bringing them closer to destruction. There wasn’t even anything to busy themselves with in the shed. What would she and Benton say they’d been doing?

There was silence for a long moment, and Grace thought, Open the door! No, keep it closed and locked! Maybe Eddie would go back to work. What was he doing home, anyway? Benton was sweating buckets; he looked pale and nauseated, and Grace thought he might vomit in the copper sink. She needed him to be calm, take charge, tell her what to do.

Then there was a sharp knock on the door of the shed, and they both jumped. Please, God! Grace thought. She was an adulterer about to be caught—she had no business resorting to prayer, but that was what she did. She whispered a Hail Mary.

Eddie said, “Benton, you’re all done here, as of right now. You’re done, and I will not be paying your final bill. You’ve taken more from me than I owe you. Now, I’m leaving, and you will leave right after me, and you will never come back.”

Benton nodded sharply. He was shaking. Why didn’t he open the door and stand up to Eddie? Why didn’t he say, You just can’t order me off this job, I’ve done nothing wrong! Or, since that wasn’t quite believable, why didn’t he just tell Eddie the truth: I’m in love with your wife! I’m going to marry her!