“I wonder if it is possible to have two boyfriends. I mean, times are changing. Relationships are more complicated. In France men always have mistresses and wives and so on. Henri probably has two girlfriends. He would laugh if you told him you just had one. He would say, ‘C’est tres, tres tragique.’”
Slowly, clutching my coffee mug to keep warm, I walk up the stairs, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. I have to walk past the bathroom to get to my room, an Mom has left the door open, the light on. I want to walk right past it without looking in, but I can’t help myself; before I know what I’m doing I’ve turned my head and looked inside. I brace myself for rusty brown stains on the floor, the broken mirror, the scratches on the tile.