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Where he had barely changed since college, Kathleen felt as though she were a constantly shifting landscape, inside and out. It was all so profoundly unfair.
It was the little things, she knew by now, the small repetitions, that made a life.
Kathleen was suddenly charged with the knowledge that Virgil’s hands had always moved up her body while Billy’s had always moved down, and in that moment, she knew what she preferred.
He hadn’t married the wrong woman, he thought; she married the wrong man.
