The same one Arthur had found draped across his patio chair, damp with chlorine and sunlight. Arthur’s breath caught in his throat. Whatever doubts he had clung to, whatever excuses he had made, were gone. He knew now.
Arthur waited until the following afternoon to approach them, a bottle in hand—one of the many he had collected from the hedge and the pool. The couple were on their porch, music buzzing from a speaker, their laughter rising too sharp in the afternoon air.