“On what?”
“Can I have a glass of that wine?”
Maggie shrugs. “Help yourself.”
Craig walks to the cabinet in the dining area and comes back with the appropriate wineglass. “This particular Shiraz has always been my favorite.” He empties what’s left of the bottle into his glass, regarding Maggie quizzically, his eyes asking,You drank the rest of this bottle all by yourself?
“It’s been an interesting night,” she says in response.
He lowers himself to the olive-green velvet sofa across from the white-and-green-striped wing chair where Maggie sits and takes a sip of his wine. “How so?”
“Well, for starters, I’m pretty sure that Nick Wilson is beating his wife and that Sean Grant is lying to his. Plus, something’s definitely not right with the Youngs. I know you’re going to tell me I should mind my own business….”
“Since when have you ever listened to me?” Craig asks with a grin.
A small smile wobbles across Maggie’s lips. “And then tonight at the gym,” she continues, “I was positive these two guys were there to kill me, and of course they weren’t, I was just being paranoid, as you would say….”
“I say a lot of stupid things.”
“Well, yes…you do. But you were right about that.”
He laughs. “Please tell me you didn’t shoot them.”
“I didn’t.”
“Well, that’s a step in the right direction.” He takes another sip of his wine. “Anything else?”
“It’s just all got me thinking.”
“About…?”
“I recognize there will probably always be moments like tonight at the gym, moments where I let my anxiety get the better of me. But I can’t let those moments turn into days, weeks,yearsof my life,” she says slowly, carefully measuring out each word. “I’ve been in limbo for so long. Afraid of my own shadow, afraid to move forward, to trust my instincts, to be…who I am.”
“What are you saying, Maggie?”
“That it has to change. I can’t keep waiting, hoping, for things to be different. I want my spark back. I…” Maggie downs what’s left of the wine in her glass and stands up. “I want a divorce.”