She wouldn’t look at me. We ordered, she drank her first glass of wine in three gulps. Only then did her gaze scrape across me. Black eyeliner could not hide the coldness in her eyes. Red lipstick only enhanced her unsmiling face. We picked at our food in silence, wedding bands glinting by the light of chandeliers.

“So what’s his name?” I queried after swallowing.

“Harold.” She answered without hesitation.

I suppressed a grimace, and she startled me by bursting with laughter. I picked up my fork, face burning. “Why else would you make plans on Valentine’s night?”

That distinguished her humor instantly. “I was invited to go drinking with my coworkers.” She snarled, “I didn’t plan anything. And honestly? I’d rather be there right now rather than suffer your pathetic attempts to butter me up before you want to have sex tonight. For the first time this year.” She added as an afterthought.

Refilling her glass, she downed two Xanax and leaned closer. “Hope that Viagra is working for you.”