Jenna sat in the car, the engine running to keep the AC going, the cool air soothing and good against her overheated face. Her heart was pounding and she felt the familiar sticky wetness between her legs as she stared out the windshield at the house she shared with her husband, Dan, the house they now lived in alone after their two grown children had gone out on their own. It was a lovely home, she was proud to note — two stories, a well-kept rambler they’d owned for more than 30 years. An immaculately-trimmed lawn stretched to the curb, and in front of her was her husband’s still fairly new Lexus sedan. She herself drove the Mercedes SUV he’d purchased for her a few years back.
She looked in the mirror, touched her blond-and-brown streaked hair and examined her makeup carefully, trying to get her breathing under control, gazing into the reflection of her disconcertingly beautiful blue-green eyes … asking herself once again if she was going through with this. But today was the day. Things were already in motion. She’d asked Dan to come home early from work so she could share something important with him.