It felt strange, talking to her back, but he gathered she didn’t want to look him in the eyes—didn’t want him to see her cry, even though he could tell she was trembling, sniffing her nose. He thought that maybe he was wrong about her all the time and that maybe the only reason why he convinced himself she wasn’t who she said she was pure jealousy. Because the woman standing in front of him—the woman who spent an entire night with him, probably holding him in her arms as he broke, was not evil. 