Free Lying With Strangers by James Grippando

clue.”
    Peyton cringed at their laughter, making not a sound. Part of her wanted to announce her presence and set them straight in angry tones, but she couldn’t move. Finally, a toilet flushed. Peyton nearly jumped, prompted by an overwhelming need to just getout. Quickly, she opened the door and headed for the exit, leaving them behind with their mean jokes and misconceptions.
    She was moving faster than ever before on crutches, even faster than the busy doctors and nurses she passed in the corridor. Moisture gathered in her eyes. Nurse gossip was a silly thing to cry over. She’d left herself vulnerable, however, by not having cried the miscarriage out of her system when she’d had the chance at home. Now she was fighting back tears, refusing to unravel at work.
    Her beeper vibrated against her waist, signaling a page. She checked it. There was no number, just a digital message.
    I Love You , it read.
    She drew a deep breath and nearly managed to smile. She felt so much better. The timing was impeccable. She couldn’t confirm the sender, but who else could it have been?
    “Thank you, Kevin,” she said softly, then continued toward the elevator.

11
    IT WAS MONDAY AND IT WAS ALMOST LUNCHTIME. KEVIN WAS SEATED alone in a booth in the back of Murphy’s Pub, waiting and burning up stress as he chomped on the ice from his soda.
    Only one other booth was occupied as yet, a man and woman holding hands and eyeing each other. They were too well dressed and the food here was too lousy for them to be lunching at Murphy’s for any reason other than a secret affair. The chances of anyone in their circle happening upon them here were nil, which of course was the whole point. Cheaters always thought they were so clever.
    “Hi,” said Sandra.
    He managed a strained smile as she slid into the booth.
    “Hey.”
    When Sandra had sent the e-mail asking him to meet her for lunch at Murphy’s, Kevin’s entire focus had been on whether he should go and what he should say to her if he did. He didn’t give the venue much thought. But now that he’d arrived and could see what the place was like, he just felt like a dirty cheater.
    “I’m surprised you showed up,” she said.
    “I thought we should talk.”
    “How is Peyton?”
    It was the decent thing to ask, but under the circumstances it struck Kevin as awkward at best. “Pretty good, actually.”
    “How are you?”
    “I’m hanging in there.”
    Sandra touched her hair, a little sign of nervousness. “Did you tell her where you were when the call came?”
    “No,” he said firmly.
    “Are you going to?”
    Kevin drew a breath, then let it out. “Sandra, that’s what I came to talk about.”
    “You’re not going to tell her, are you?”
    “I want to be honest with you. Peyton and I—”
    “You’ve reconciled,” she said, her eyes closing momentarily, as if to absorb the blow. “I knew it.”
    “She’s my wife, Sandra.”
    “And what about us?”
    “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. There can’t be an ‘us.’”
    “You should have told me that before you took me to bed.”
    She wasn’t yelling, but she had been loud enough for the waitress to overhear. This wasn’t the time to debate who had taken whom to bed. “Sandra, come on, please.”
    “What did you expect from me? You want me to be happy to hear that all the time and effort I’ve put into you has just ended with one night of drunken sex?”
    “What time and effort? We’re friends, and on that one night things just got out of hand.”
    “I have feelings for you. Isn’t that obvious?”
    He paused, his well-rehearsed words suddenly not flowing as easily as he had hoped. “Like I said, I want to be honest with you. My original plan was to come here today and tell you that Peyton and I will be patching things up. But I don’t think that’s the case anymore.”
    “Are you trying to make me crazy? You can’t keep changing your mind.”
    “It’s not a matter of me changing my mind.