Clay had slept with Trina four times, always in her guest house, where the sheets smelled like flowers and felt like clouds. Every time, she was freshly waxed and wearing lingerie and perfume.

He recalled a time he'd recently managed to have sex with Ellie; she'd just gotten back from hot yoga and refused to take a shower first. "Why would I take a shower first?" she'd asked. "I need to shower afterward." Never mind that she'd been sweating for ninety minutes in a boiling hot room and her scent gave it away. But apparently the scent of Clay was worse, something she would need to scrub away after he tried to make love to her.

Trina was different. Post-coitus, she lounged in bed next to him, never eager to shower, because showering meant their time was over.

Right then, she lounged next to him, covered in just a thin sheet. "How are things with Dylan and Ellie?" she asked, touching his arm with her gentle, manicured nails, even though she probably knew by then he wouldn't give her an answer. He'd told her his dark secret on that first night in The Orchid, but he wouldn't trust her with any more information like that, even though she'd proven trustworthy thus far. He didn't know where this thing with them would go, and what might happen to any information she held once it ended.

His admission that Dylan had said he would marry Ellie had no doubt clued her in to the complicated nature of Dylan and Ellie's relationship. Her son and Ellie had never dated, but Dylan had once had feelings for her, and he might still have those feelings. The subject of their relationship being more than platonic was a touchy topic for Ellie, who, whenever Clay brought it up, would act like he was overreacting, making something out of nothing. Sometimes, Clay wondered if she even knew how Dylan felt about her. Other times, he suspected she felt the same way. "God, we made out one time," she'd once told him. "It was at a rave, and we were on ecstasy, and I'm pretty sure I made out with six people that night, including my friend Michelle and a very unattractive old man with purple suspenders and a hairy chest who people called Mr. Pringles. So, please, don't bring it up again." Now that they lived in Mountain Springs, Ellie was so insistent on pushing the narrative that she and Dylan hadn't known each other before she met Clay; she would cringe at the discovery that Trina knew anything of the truth about her life before Avery, as Trina could certainly weaponize that knowledge.

Yes; he deeply regretted sharing his secret with Trina, as it made the future even more uncertain. But he never regretted sharing her bed.

"They're fine," he finally told her about Ellie and Dylan, and he knew the vague answer would keep her from pressing.

If he'd wanted to be honest, he might have told her that the distance between him and Ellie felt wider than ever with Dylan in town, even now that Dylan lived on his own. His and Trina's affair couldn't be helping; it was just making it easier to accept the distance as the norm. He and Ellie had opted for an Eastern King mattress over a California King upon moving into their new house, a choice Clay had often regretted, because the physical space between them at night seemed to mirror the cold distance between them during the day. But with his and Trina's affair, the space between him and Ellie seemed more comfortable, and he didn't want it to. He wanted to want to repair their relationship, to come back together. But he didn't know how to, and Trina was fulfilling him in enough ways to make his desire begin to go away. Pretty soon, he might not care that he and Ellie had grown apart. Trina filled the space.

"Can you believe the arsonist struck again?" Trina asked, moving on from her fishing attempts.

"I can't believe they haven't caught the guy yet."

"Yeah. She must be clever."

He smiled at her, because her comment reminded him of something Ellie would say. Whether the perpetrator was male or female, they had now successfully set five local businesses aflame: an electrician's office building, a local brewery, an endodontist's office, a landscape architect's firm, and Dean Clark's place of work—Limitless Software. The recent articles by the Vanwinkle woman in the Mountain Springs Courier had repeatedly verbalized the fact that all of these businesses were owned by Lake End parents, and that didn't make Clay feel good, mostly because it made him feel like a potential target; he didn't want to shell out any more money to pay for someone else's crimes, and he didn't want someone else's crimes to jeopardize his future in Mountain Springs.

"Heidi told me that the cops are beefing up their nighttime patrols," Trina told him.

Heidi VanWinkle was the woman Ellie referred to as "the old mother." Really, Heidi and Clay were probably close to the same age; when she'd had her kindergarten daughter Star, her older son had probably been near the same age Dylan had been at Avery's birth. Clay had never talked to Heidi, but he wondered how relatable she'd be. He'd seen her checking him out once, and she smiled when he caught her, giving him cause to like her.

He scoffed at Trina's remark. "I doubt the police force here can do much beefing up." Mountain Springs was not known for its police presence, a factor which had once made the town feel more safe but which now made it feel less safe. More police often meant more crime, but the presence of crime without an adequate police force to stop it felt unsafe.

Trina laughed like he'd told a good joke.

After some more conversation, they jumped into the shower. Showering had become their ritual of closure, the last thing they did together before they went back to their normal lives.

Floral-scented bath gel oozed over Clay's skin, and he wondered if Ellie ever smelled the scent on him and pondered where it came from, especially since at home he normally used body washes with masculine scents, scents of woods and herbs and spices. Then he realized Ellie hardly got close enough to him to smell him anymore, and he helped himself to another glob of bath gel.

Arriving home a while later, he found Avery on the great room floor playing with a Lego set.

"Daddy!" he screeched, jumping up from the carpet to see him. Avery always seemed this excited to see him, and it filled Clay with a happiness that magically lifted his spirit. He picked Avery up and kissed him on the head, before setting him down and asking him, "What are you building?"

"An emerald city! Except it's not emerald. We don't have enough green blocks, so it's multi-colored."

"Is it structurally sound?"

Avery nodded, beginning to show Clay how strong the structure of his city was, and Clay found himself remembering how excited Dylan used to get when Clay would come home from work. Dylan used to act like Clay was his favorite person in the world, just like Avery now did.

Then, bit by bit, Clay started to let Dylan down. His first terrible mistake, the one that changed his image in Dylan's mind forever, was cheating on Judy, Dylan's mom, with another woman.

As Avery continued to spout off about his Legos, Clay began to feel that terrible regret again, realizing, not for the first time, the mistake of being with Trina. He loved Avery, he loved him so much, and he never wanted to hurt him.

He pulled him in for a tight hug.

Avery pushed him away. "Dad! I was trying to show you the gate."

"I know. I just love you."

Clay finally let him go, and he found Avery smiling; the boy was still young enough to appreciate Clay's affection. "Can I help you make your gate even stronger?" Clay asked.

"So no wicked witches can come in?"

"That's right."

Avery nodded enthusiastically.

As Clay began to show Avery how to reinforce his multicolored city, he felt Ellie's gaze on him, and he turned. On the threshold between the great room and the kitchen, she stood smiling at him and Avery. He smiled back at her.

Though they'd grown apart, something still held them together. Parenthood. Avery.

Clay still had a chance to make things right between them. The yarn hadn't snapped yet.