I could have done all sorts of things-I saw that now-but I hadn’t. And then the frog had given me what I wanted. Only getting what you want isn’t perfect. It doesn’t mean automatic happiness. Those things I’d desired had brought along their own host of concerns and troubles. Plus, they weren’t as satisfying when I’d had nothing to do with attaining them.

Now it was time to start fresh. Yet where to start?

I thought about calling my mom from my cell phone, to bring her back into a world where we shared our lives, even though we lived apart. I glanced at my watch as I passed under the El tracks at Franklin. Already 10:00. She would either be asleep or out socializing with her new, fabulous friends.

Evan. I definitely needed to set things right there. We worked together. I couldn’t put that off forever. And speaking of work, I needed to start over there, as well.

When I reached Dearborn, I took a left and walked the softly lit street, past old brick townhouses, the small green plot that was Bughouse Square, and the stately, stone Newberry Library. I was almost home. Which brought me to the most important thing I had to do. The most important thing in my world. Chris.

“Hey, is that my girl?” Chris said as I walked in the condo. He was on the computer in jeans and a black T-shirt.

“It’s me,” I said, weakly.

He stood and enveloped me in a hug, one I didn’t deserve. I held him tight, wondering if this might be the last embrace for a while. If I told him about Evan, he would pull away, rightly so, but I still wasn’t sure if I should tell him. We had to get to the base of our original problems-Chris being all attentive and loving for the past few weeks couldn’t erase that. Yet I wanted to tell him about Evan. I wanted to get that horrible secret out in the open. But wouldn’t it just hurt him? And wasn’t that unnecessary if I knew I’d never do it again? Or was I kidding myself and making excuses?

“How was Odette?” Chris said, releasing me. “I was going to make you dinner, but I figured she’d feed you.”

“She did. She’s fine.” My was voice flat.

Chris peered at me. “Something wrong?”

“Can we go in the living room?”

Chris led me there, and I pulled him onto the couch.

“Oh, I see,” Chris said, with a little growl.

“No, Chris, it’s not that.”

“Well, let’s make it that.” He began to kiss my neck.

“Chris, please.” I pulled away.

“Okay, hon.” He stroked my arm.

There was a second of silence, and I seized it. “Why did you get so distant after the wedding?”

“What?” Chris looked perplexed.

“It might have even been during the planning of the wedding. You became very distant, and really it’s stuck around the whole time we’ve been married. We haven’t been happy. Not since we were dating.”

Chris blinked rapidly. “Haven’t we been happy the last couple of weeks?”

“Yes, of course, but that’s-”

“That’s what?” He looked hurt, his eyebrows drawn together.

Did I say, that was only because of the frog? No. It didn’t matter what had caused the change in Chris, because I was putting things right, starting now.

“Chris, I know things have been…better recently, but that doesn’t change how we were practically strangers for years. We’ve got to figure out why that happened.”

He shrugged. “What does it matter? Why do we need to revisit that time if we’re fine now?”

“Because how do we know we won’t slide back into that pattern?”

“We won’t.”

“You can’t say that. You don’t know. And I do want to know about the past. I want to figure out why we drifted apart. We can’t just pretend everything was fine.”

“I’m not pretending, I just don’t think we need to rehash old news.”

“But it’s not rehashing, if we’ve never talked about it!”

I’d raised my voice, but Chris barely blinked. “Just leave it, Billy,” he said, his voice low and sweet. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, but-”

“It’s fine. We’re fine.”

“We’re not.”

“Of course we are, sweetie.” He scooted toward me on the couch, his arms out as if to hug me again. He was never going to stop being so kind, so loving, so intent to let the past lie, and with the secret in my chest too large to bear, I could never go forward as Odette had said. Maybe it was selfish, maybe it was the right thing to do. All I knew was that I couldn’t keep such a thing from my husband and just move forward.

“Chris, stop,” I said. “I have to tell you something.” I grabbed both of his hands in mine. As I looked down at them, one tear fell and splashed on his skin. “I am so, so sorry, but…” I trailed off for a second, wondering how to explain. Just say it, I decided, just get it out. “Chris, I was with someone else.”

We were frozen there, like two actors at the end of a play before the curtain fell-Chris’s body in midlean, his hands still in mine. His mouth was open, his eyes unblinking. The only sound in the room was the womp, womp, womp of the pulse in my ears.

He stood, looking down at me the way someone looks at a bug who has crawled into their house. “Get out.”

“What? You can’t-”

“I can’t what? I can’t kick you out for sleeping with someone else?”

“Whoa, Chris.” I stood and grabbed his arm. “I kissed him. That was it. I should have said that right away, I’m sorry. I did not sleep with anyone else.”

He yanked his arm back, but didn’t move away. His face was confused. He looked like a little boy, suddenly hurt by the world.

“Oh, God, don’t look like that,” I said. “Please. I had to tell you. I couldn’t go on not telling you, but it was just a kiss.”

“Who?” Chris backed away from me. He leaned heavily against the wall as if that were the only thing keeping him from sliding to the floor in a heap.

I stayed where I was, mortified by the question. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t, Billy. You know what I mean. Who was it?”

In all my thoughts about confessing what I’d done, I had somehow never considered having to tell him it was Evan. Evan, who Chris truly liked. Evan, whom I suspected was sometimes envied by Chris for his freewheeling lifestyle and bevy of women. How to tell him I’d joined the damned bevy?

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, hearing the cliché words, which I must have picked up from watching Days of Our Lives.

“Give me a fucking break,” Chris said, spitting out his words. He rarely swore.

I took a breath. I let it out. I stepped cautiously closer to my husband. “Evan.”

Chris laughed-a raw, choking kind of laugh. “I don’t believe you! I know this guy. You couldn’t pick someone I didn’t know? You couldn’t at least give me the fucking courtesy?”

“Chris, I’m so sorry.”

“Jesus, I knew you had a thing for him.”

“I don’t have a thing for him.”

Chris gave me an incredulous look that made me want to shrink into the earth. My guilt reached monstrous proportions. Because he was right. I’d had “a thing” for Evan for years. Not only that, but I’d wanted Evan to do something about it. I wanted to play with fire, sure in the knowledge that I’d always be able to blow out the flame. I’d been wrong. I wasn’t strong enough. Or maybe I simply hadn’t been protective enough of my marriage.

“I don’t have a thing for him,” I said. “Not anymore.” I took a step closer, but Chris shooed me away with a harsh, fast motion of his arm.

“Don’t,” he said with finality. He looked around as if seeing our living room for the first time. “You know…you know what? I could have cheated on you or kissed someone else a million times.”

I wasn’t sure if this was supposed to make me feel better or worse. “Okay.”

“When you were planning the wedding, and you cared more about the goddamned place settings than you did about us-you don’t think I could have done something then? Or after, when you were more concerned about your job than me?”