Alexander (as Zane) POV
The trellis groans under my weight the way it always does, and I freeze against the wall of my own house, waiting to see if anyone heard. No one ever does. That's the joke buried inside this whole miserable arrangement — I sneak into my own home to see my own wife, wearing a mask to hide the face she already knows.
I tap twice on the balcony door, our signal, and push it open before she answers.
Sandra is curled on the window seat, knees pulled to her chest, staring at nothing. She doesn't jump the way she used to when I first started coming. She just turns her head, slowly, like she's been expecting me and dreading me at the same time.
"You're late," she says, and pulls her robe tighter around her shoulders.
"Traffic." I keep my voice low, rough, nothing like
