Then the look vanished as if he’d just recalled something highly irritating and he said, “Anyway, according to Olivia, you’ve got a boyfriend yourself. Jasper’s dad. The school principal, no less. Do you remember him?”

Her face became warm. “I didn’t remember him, but I met him yesterday.”

“Right,” said Nick testily. “Well, he sounds very nice. Think I remember him from the school. Tall, lanky bloke. Anyway, so glad everything is working out so well for you. The question is, are you well enough to look after the children tonight? Or should they come back with me?”

Alice said, “If neither of us had an affair, why aren’t we still together? What could be bad enough to break us up?”

Nick exhaled noisily. He looked around the room in a flabbergasted way, as if looking for guidance from an equally flabbergasted audience. “It seems to me like this is a pretty serious head injury. I can’t believe they let you leave the hospital.”

“They did a CT scan. There’s nothing physically wrong with me. Also, I sort of told them that I had my memory back.”

Nick’s eyes rose to the heavens. Another pompous new gesture. “Oh, great. Brilliant. Lie to the doctors. Well done, Alice.”

“Why are you being so mean to me?”

“What, are we five now? I’m not being mean to you.”

“You are. And you don’t even sound like yourself. You’ve got all sarcastic and clichéd and . . . ordinary.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much. Clichéd and ordinary. Yes, it’s such a great mystery why our marriage has ended.”

He looked around with a triumphant jeer for his invisible audience again, as if to say, “See what I have to put up with?”

“I’m sorry,” said Alice. “I didn’t mean . . .” She drifted off because she was remembering what it was like when you broke up with someone. Conversations became so hopelessly tangled. You had to be polite and precise. You couldn’t safely criticize anymore, because you didn’t have the right. You’d lost your immunity.

“Oh, Nick,” she said helplessly.

She was experiencing all those familiar symptoms of a relationship breakup. The nausea. The sensation of something huge and hard lodged in the center of her chest. That trembly, teary feeling.

She wasn’t supposed to ever have to feel this way again. Breakups were meant to be something from her youth. Painful memories. Actually not that painful, because it was sort of nice to look fondly back at her younger self and think, “Oh you silly thing, crying over that jerk.”

This was meant to be her grown-up relationship. The one that lasted forever.

She put her wineglass on the coffee table and turned to face him. “Just tell me why we’re getting a divorce. Please.”

“That’s an impossible question to answer. There are a million reasons. And you’d probably give a million different reasons.”

“Well, just sort of . . . sum it up.”

“In twenty-five words or less.”

“Yes, please.”

He smiled slightly and it was the real Nick again. He kept appearing and disappearing.

He said, “Well, I guess—” and then he stopped and bowed his head. “Oh, Alice.” An expression of pure misery crossed his face.

It was too much for Alice. Her instinct was to comfort him, and she wanted to be comforted herself, and it was Nick, for heaven’s sake.

She launched herself across the room and into his arms and buried her face in his chest, breathing in deeply. It was still Nick. He still smelled exactly like himself.

“Whatever went wrong, we’ll fix it,” she babbled. “We’ll get counseling. We’ll go on a nice holiday somewhere!” She was inspired. “With the children ! They can come too! Our children! How fun would that be? Or we’ll just hang around here. Swim in the pool. The pool! I love the pool! How did we ever afford that? I guess with your new job. Do you like the job? I couldn’t believe it! You’ve got your own personal assistant. She wasn’t very nice to me, but that’s okay, I don’t mind.”

“Alice.”

He wasn’t hugging her back. The words kept tumbling out of her mouth. She could talk her way out of this.

“I’m skinny, aren’t I? I might even be too skinny. What do you think? How did I get so skinny? Did I give up chocolate? I can’t find any chocolate in the whole house. My password is ‘oregano.’ Weird. Hey, why isn’t Mrs. Bergen talking to me? Did I offend her? Elisabeth seems mad at me, too. But you still love me, don’t you? You must still love me.”

“Stop it.” He held on to her shoulders and pushed her gently away.

“Because we have three children. And I still love you.”

“No, Alice.” He shook his head sternly, as if she were a toddler about to touch an electrical socket.

“What are you two fighting about this time?” Alice and Nick turned to see Madison leaning against the door frame. She must have had a shower. She was wearing a dressing gown, her face was scrubbed, and her hair was wet, pulled back from her face.

“Oh, you look so beautiful,” said Alice involuntarily.

Madison’s face changed, became ugly with rage.

“Why do you always say such stupid, retarded things?”

“Madison!” boomed Nick. “Do not speak to your mother like that.”

“Well, she is! Anyway, I heard you say to Auntie Ella that Mum was a hard bitch, so why are you pretending to like her? I know you hate her.”