"And so are we!" she spat, shrugging from his touch.
"But Greta, wait. I mean, I know we've had our problems, but that doesn't mean we should just throw away our lives together."
"Together?" she said, astonished. "What lives, Matthew? What together?" She shook her head sadly at his photograph smiling up at her from the newspaper. "There's your together."
"Greta? What is it? What have I done? What can I do? Is there something you want?"
"No, Matthew, not from you." She touched her finger to her horseshoe charm, slid it from side to side. "This time, I've gotten what I want all by myself."
This seemed funny to him. "Oh?" he said grandly. "And what's that, honey?"
"Love."
That wasn't what he'd had in mind. He blinked several times rapidly. His eyes locked on a point in the ceiling. All the clowning was gone from his face. He had expected something amusing, like a new hobby or craft, but this took him by complete surprise. "An affair?" he asked, catching her eye. She looked away. He tugged the cuffs of his shirtsleeves, composed himself, all business. "An affair," he repeated. "I see."
"It's your fault."
He was thoughtful for a moment, then cleared his throat. "Yes. I suppose it is."