It didn’t happen on Sunday. When she arrived home that evening, Jenny found a note taped to the bathroom mirror, saying that Bryan had had to fly to Boston with Siobhan for something regarding work. Sorry I couldn’t tell you last night. I’ll call when I know more. Bryan.
That was it. No elaborate explanations, no queries about how the picnic had gone. He didn’t even ask if she’d enjoyed herself.
Jenny threw herself into her work that week, staying late on Monday, going in early on Tuesday. Bryan called Tuesday afternoon, but the exchange was short—so busy here, be back before the weekend, love you. There wasn’t time for her to ask what had prompted the trip, and since there was no way she was going to break up with him over the phone, Jenny played along, letting the details slide in favo
