Disappearing Act, Part II

Saturday afternoon.

Thank god, she forgave me. I will never see Jane again. Everything is going to work out.

I went to sit down on the bed this morning, she was still sleeping. She woke up and watched me with big eyes, then she looked at the time. She had been crying.
- Where were you? She asked in the fragile little-girl’s voice that she used when she was frightened.

I said:
- With Mike. We were drinking and talking all night.

She looked at me for a second longer. Then, slowly, she took my hand and pressed it against her cheek.
- Pardon me, she said, and tears came to her eyes.

I buried my head close to hers so that she wouldn’t see my face.

- Oh! Mary, you too, pardon me.

I will never tell her the truth. She is worth too much to me. I can not lose her.