Antonin hadn't yet folded the blanket on the couch. Evidently, he did not spend the night with his mistress. Or any other cheap slag, for that matter. It must have been another late night or she was so sound asleep that she didn't even hear the front door open. She wondered how long he was going to keep up the avoidance act. Would he continue to sleep on the sofa until she begged and pleaded with him to forgive her for her many transgressions? Because that wasn't going to happen. She felt zero guilt over what she said to him.