The Wife
A Novel
Chapter One
The moment I decided to leave him, the moment I thought, enough, we were
thirty-five thousand feet above the ocean, hurtling forward but giving the
illusion of stillness and tranquility. Just like our marriage, I could
have said, but why ruin everything right now? Here we were in first-class
splendor, tentatively separated from anxiety; there was no turbulence and the
sky was bright, and somewhere among us, possibly, sat an air marshal in dull
traveler's disguise, perhaps picking at a little dish of oily nuts or captivated
by the zombie prose of the in-flight magazine. Drinks had already been served
before takeoff, and we were both frankly bombed, our mouths half open, our heads
tipped back. Women in uniform carried baskets up and down the aisles like a
sexualized fleet of Red Riding Hoods.
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