Andrea lies on the sofa in her parlor and spins the ring around her finger. The diamond catches the light and throws sparkles across the room and onto the walls. Lucky runs in and out through the open French doors and the curtains rustle in the breeze. She can’t stop thinking about Charles.
I can’t believe he loves me, she thinks guiltily. I feel like a blind i***t—I thought he was just being friendly, but he was flirting the whole time. He was always calling me and joking with me and inviting me to dinner. Why didn’t I see it? Why didn’t I put a stop to it? He must have thought I was leading him on.
Her phone buzzes in her pocket, and she answers it grateful for a distraction. It’s Lance, but his voice sounds distant and crackly. He tells her he’s landed safely and is on his way from
