Sarah's hand hesitated on the doorknob at the sound of Mark's voice, so cool and so precise.
"Honey, we have to talk."
Her heart was racing, but she ordered herself to be calm. She shut the door behind her and smoothed her skirt, as if that single action could make everything in life normal again.
She had just seen Jason less than an hour ago, that quick tryst in the office parking lot was fresh in her mind. That spark, that thrill. God, it was exhilarating. But Mark? He was her husband, the steady constant in her life.
"Mark," she greeted him, walking into the kitchen, attempting a smile. "What's up?
He sat at the kitchen table, with an unusual stack of papers arranged neatly in front of him. His eyes followed her as she approached with the sharp focused attention of one who knew more than he should.
"Sit down," he said, motioning to a chair.
Sarah's stomach twisted. She'd grown used to Mark being the oblivious one, caught up in work, thinking of finances and logistics more than their fading intimacy. He'd never noticed anything before, was today different?
Slowly she sat, folding her hands in her lap. "Mark, you're scaring me."
