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The two of them communed for the better part of two hours, starting with his tail wrapped lightly around her wrist. He'd first proposed sitting on her shoulder as he did mine with the tail touching her neck, but she quickly vetoed that idea; she had, apparently, something of a phobia about things coming near her throat. Understandable in a singer, I supposed, though it had never bothered me. Idly I wondered whether that might change in time, now that I'd found my full voice.The wrist thing, though, wasn't a total success. I'd noticed before that she had a tendency to talk with her hands; apparently during her years in (mostly) Italian opera some of their national reliance on heavy gesticulation had rubbed off. Most Italians I'd met were congenitally incapable of speaking only from the neck up, the hands and arms always seemed to get involved. Finally his tail settled across her lap, and they went on that way.I was pleased to see that they seemed to be getting on well. On her part. " She reached and patted me on the cheek, turned and went back into her office. I stood for a moment, then turned and left.I saw that it was now almost 11. I guessed that Kim's statement about being home at 10 was like her other promises. I took the roses and tossed them, vase and all, into the trash can. I threw the earings into my desk drawer. I went to bed and lay there awake, wondering where my life was going. It was almost 1 a.m. when I heard the front door open. It didn't take long for Kim to undress and climb into bed, next to me. She smelled clean and fresh, as if from a recent shower. I feigned sleep. It was at that moment that I knew for certain that she was having an affair with Lavell. Yeah, I should have realized it before - I guess that I just didn't want to face it.I did not get much sleep that night. I had no real proof of her adultery, but then again I really needed none. There was no one I had to convince and we didn't have huge assets to fight over. The divorce.
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