It happened at his company's holiday party, which was held every year in the lobby of the Merrick building. It was a nice party, with wine and small plates and a string quartet, and Ethan had asked me to come, because he was still pretending we were fine, and I had said yes.
There were about two hundred people there. His entire firm. His boss. His parents. His clients.
I stood at the edge of the room with a glass of wine I wasn't drinking, and I watched him work the room. He was good at it. He was charming and easy and generous with his laugh, and he looked, from a distance, like the man I'd met three years ago. I felt nothing.
Sasha sent me a message around nine. She had driven up from Millbrook. I had told her what I was going to do, and I'd asked her if she wanted to be there. She'd
