(Richard POV)
I had begun to notice, as Vivienne had left on Sunday afternoon and Millie had gone up to take a nap and Adrianna had gone to Marcy's for lunch, the things a man notices in a woman when he has just had the conversation I had just had with Millie. Millie's exhaustion, which I had been noticing for ten days. The way she put her hand on her lower back when she stood at the kitchen counter. The way she had stopped drinking her morning coffee.
“I'm just not feeling it, Daddy.”
The way she had started craving things at strange hours like orange juice, mostly, and once a single slice of cold ham from the refrigerator at eleven at night in her robe. The ham had been the moment I knew. I had known the week before she had told me. I had known by the orange juice. I had known by the
