I left my wife outside in the freezing cold because my sister yelled, “That woman is using you”; when I opened the balcony door I found a fingerprint, a cigarette butt and an unfinished letter, but what destroyed me the most was knowing who those $8,000 were really for.

Nora looked at her from the bed. She said nothing for several seconds.

Then she replied, “Shame doesn’t bring back the night I spent thinking my husband hated me.”

Gwen put a hand to her chest. “I know.”

“Then live with that,” Nora said. “I’m going to try to live with mine.”

Gwen left crying. Liam accompanied her to the bus station.

There were no arguments or shouts. They hugged like siblings do when they no longer know whether to say goodbye for a few months or for a lifetime.

“Take care of her,” Gwen said.

Liam gritted his teeth. “I should have done that before.”

When Nora returned to the apartment, everything seemed the same, the table, the cups, the flowerpots, and the light curtains. But for her, nothing was the same.

The balcony was still there, cold and silent, with the memory of that night clinging to the glass. One afternoon she stood in front of the door.