Forty-fiveStanding in the quiet of the lab, Marilyn glanced at her watch. It was late, and Pete would be worrying where she had got to. Did she really care? She sighed, not at all sure if she did. Pete had changed, no longer the happy-go-lucky character she once found so exciting, so attractive. Along the way, the years had worn away the edges, turned him into the grump he was now. She had few illusions; some of it may have been her fault. Nevertheless, he never made the effort, always content to berate her whenever he wished. She couldn't remember the last time they had gone out, or sat on the sofa and laughed at some inane virtual reality show on TV. They had grown apart, with little hope of ever becoming close again.
Snelling offered her another beaker of whisky; she accepted it withou
