Chapter 3 The Secret Between Twins.

For a second, Harry didn't respond. Then he set down the toolbox and put a hand at my waist, kissing me cautiously, as if giving me time to change my mind. I didn't. I caught his shirt and drew him closer, startled by my own urgency.

The kiss deepened, and my warnings dissolved beneath the rush of feeling. When we broke apart, Andrew's photograph caught my eye.

"We shouldn't," I whispered.

"No," Harry said, breathing unevenly. "We shouldn't."

He stepped back, but when our eyes met again, I kissed him. He responded with equal urgency, and we drifted toward the sofa without either of us deciding it aloud. The film played on, its dialogue lost beneath our breathing. I knew the choice wasn't innocent, but desire drowned out consequence.

Afterward, the room seemed painfully clear.

The television was still on, and the air conditioner hummed above us. Andrew's favorite sofa was beneath me. The sight of it brought the truth crashing back, and I covered my face.

"What have I done?"

Harry sat beside me but didn't touch me. His face had lost its warmth.

"I'm sorry, Sonia. I should have left when you told me to."

"So should I." My eyes stung. "I knew I was married. I knew what this could cost me."

"I know. I'm not excusing it. When you kissed me, I stopped thinking."

"I stopped thinking too," I admitted. "That doesn't make it right."

"No, it doesn't."

I straightened my blouse with trembling fingers and stood. "We have to pretend this never happened. You leave, and we never speak about it again."

Harry lowered his eyes. "If that's what you want."

"It's what we have to do."

He apologized again, gathered his tools, and avoided my eyes. At the door, he paused, then only nodded and left. I closed the door and leaned against it. The house looked unchanged. Nothing showed what had happened, and that was almost worse. My phone rang. Andrew's name appeared on the screen, and guilt struck before I answered.

"Hello, darling."

"Hey, sweetheart. How are you? How are the children?"

I told him about the children. He laughed, then asked whether the air conditioner had been fixed.

"Yes. A technician came this afternoon."

"Good. I told you we should have replaced that old unit."

"You did," I said, forcing a lightness into my voice. "I'll admit you were right."

He laughed again, then told me his schedule had changed. He expected to be home in about three weeks.

"Three weeks?" I gripped the phone.

"Good news, isn't it? I'm tired of hotel rooms. I want to see the children and spend time with my wife."

I closed my eyes. "We're looking forward to having you home."

When the call ended, I returned to the living room and began straightening the cushions. Something black lay beneath the sofa. I reached down and found a small memory card inside a plastic sleeve.

I turned it over in my fingers, wondering how it had got there. Harry had left the house, but he had apparently left something behind.

And I had no idea what it contained.

----

I spent the night wishing I could return to the woman I had been before Harry arrived.

I lay beside Andrew's empty pillow, staring at the ceiling while the clock moved past midnight. The memory card was in my bedside drawer. I had brought it upstairs because I did not want the children finding it, although I could not explain why something so small had made me nervous.

I kept replaying the afternoon, especially the moment Harry had started to leave and I had called him back. I could remember the reasons I had given myself for staying in the room, but I could no longer pretend I had not understood what was happening. Whatever I had felt, the decision had been mine.

Andrew called the following morning before his first meeting. I answered with my usual greeting and listened while he described a delay at the project site. He asked about the children, reminded me to take the car for servicing, and promised to send money for Michelle's school supplies if she needed anything else. His ordinary kindness made our conversation harder than it should have been.

When he asked whether I had slept well, I nearly told him the truth. The words reached the back of my throat, but I swallowed them and asked about his meeting instead. He explained that a colleague had changed the schedule, then asked me to remind Divan to practise his spelling.

After we ended the call, I sat on the edge of the bed. I could not imagine telling Andrew what had happened without seeing his expression change. I also knew that pretending nothing had happened would not make the consequences disappear.

There was only one person I trusted enough to tell. I called my twin sister, Serena.

"Can you come over today?" I asked.

"Of course. What's wrong?"

"I need to tell you something in person."

She became serious immediately. "Are the children all right?"

"Yes. They're at school."

"Then I'll be there soon."

While I waited, I made coffee and left it untouched on the kitchen counter. I considered hiding the memory card somewhere else, then wondered why I was behaving as though someone might search the house. No one knew what I had done. As far as I could tell, Harry had left without a word to anyone.

When Serena arrived, she took one look at my face and put her handbag down.

"All right," she said. "Tell me."

I led her into the living room. For a moment, I could not bring myself to sit on the sofa. I chose an armchair instead, and Serena noticed.

"What's going on, Sonia?"

I clasped my hands together. "The air conditioner broke yesterday. I called a repair company, and they sent a technician named Harry."

"All right."

"He came to fix it. We accidentally knocked over his toolbox, and while we were picking up the tools, he touched me."

Serena frowned. "Accidentally?"

"The first time, yes. He apologized immediately. But then we looked at each other, and something happened. I kissed him."

She stared at me. I forced myself to continue. "We slept together on my husband's favorite sofa."

Serena stood up, took two steps toward the window, and turned back. She stared at the sofa and studied it for a while.