Clay had asked Trina to meet him at The Orchid, where he wouldn't find her wearing only lingerie, as he often did when he met her at her guest house.

He arrived early and bought her a glass of expensive white wine, then found seats at a secluded table where he hoped they could converse without drawing too much attention. Maybe it was cowardly of him to break things off with her in a public place like this, but despite its inherent risks, it felt like the safe option. At The Orchid, she couldn't throw things at him or strip herself naked in one last attempt to keep him coming.

Trina came through the entrance a few minutes later, and he waved her over. "We could've gotten drunk in my guest house, you know," she told him as she sat down.

"I'm not coming to your guest house anymore, Trina." He'd practiced several variations of these words in his head, and he felt glad they came out smoothly.

Trina looked down at her lap and began to cry just slightly, saying, "I was afraid of that." He hadn't expected tears, especially not so quickly.

"It's just not fair for me to keep doing this to my family. It's not my place to say what is or isn't right for your family, but maybe you should consider what's best for them, too."

"My husband is leaving me," she said bluntly, and maybe loud enough for others to hear.

Clay looked around, worried about their conversation being overheard, but saw no turned heads. "What do you mean?"

"I mean he doesn't want to be with me anymore, Clay." Her tone sounded bitter, but then she looked into his eyes, putting her hand on his and softening her voice, saying, "But you and I, we have a connection, I know we do. And from what I've heard from you, from what I've witnessed, it doesn't seem like you and Ellie have a good connection. She's so much younger than you, Clay. Maybe it isn't possible for you to have a deep connection. Maybe you should just let her go so that both of you can be happy."

Clay found himself growing angry. He'd tried so hard not to drop any hints about his fraying relationship with Ellie to Trina, yet she was doing guesswork about the state of their love, and she was guessing correctly. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing she was correct, though, so he let his anger seep through his words as he said, "Don't pretend you know anything about my relationship with Ellie."

His words only made Trina cry harder; she put her face into her hands and sobbed silently. This would definitely draw someone's attention. Luckily, nobody in the bar looked recognizable to Clay; all the patrons looked like college students.

Clay put his hand on Trina's back to comfort her. "I'm sorry about your husband. I really am. But I can't be here for you anymore. Not like that. I need to be there for my own family."

He got up from his seat then, and Trina didn't move. He put his hand on her back as he said, "I wish only the best for you." Then he left, not looking back.

As Clay drove home, despite Trina's reaction, he felt better. A burden had been lifted. It made him angry with himself, because he should've been able to end things with Trina long before Dylan's intervention. At least his affair was done and over. He hoped Ellie would never find out, and that Trina's desire to keep up appearances would prevent her from revealing their secret. He hoped her kindness would prevent her from revealing everything she knew about his family that others did not. She'd proven herself to be a kind lover in the time they'd been together, but they'd only shared her bed for a couple hours at a time, and that kindness could have very well been a part of the role she played between the sheets. Had she really felt a deep connection with him? Or was that just her fear of being alone talking?

Clay turned onto the main road, where he noticed smoke rising in the distance. As he got closer, he realized the smoke came from the office building owned by Bob Swartz, who designed employment education software for companies. The right wall of the building stood aflame, and local fire trucks were already on the scene, putting out the fire with their hoses. Clay breathed in deeply as his car went past the building, worrying, once more, that he might soon see his own building on fire. He passed his building a few moments later to find it unburned, but that unsettled feeling still pervaded his insides.

After Clay got home and into bed, he snuggled against Ellie. She rolled over.