I set the tray down and told Emily to give me a minute. Then I pulled Aaron into the laundry room and shut the door.
He spoke first.
“If we try to protect ourselves through her, it gets worse.”
“We tell Emily to end this now.”
“No.”
His face tightened.
“If he finds out later, it gets worse.”“If we try to protect ourselves through her, it gets worse.”
He turned away and gripped the sink.
I told myself I was preventing a public disaster.
That would have been the right thing, or the closest version still available to us. Instead I looked through the small window at a yard full of guests and thought about the scene, the way one truth would swallow the whole evening.
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