He pulled up outside her departure terminal. For a moment they sat without looking at each other. Instead she focused on her fellow travelers waiting at curbside check-in, everyone bundled in raincoats, like a funeral gathering on a stormy November morning. She did not really want to step out of the warm car and join the dispirited throngs of travelers. Instead of boarding that flight, I could ask him to take me back home, she thought. If we had just a few more hours to talk about this, maybe we could find a way to make it work between us.

Knuckles rapped on the windshield, and she looked up to see an airport policeman glaring at them. “This is only for unloading,” he barked. “You have to move the vehicle.”

Daniel slid down the window. “I’m just dropping her off.”

“Well, don’t take all day.”

“I’ll get your luggage,” Daniel said. He stepped out of the car.

For a moment they stood shivering together on the curb, silent amid the cacophony of rumbling buses and traffic whistles. If he were my husband, she thought, we would kiss each other goodbye right here. But for too long, they had scrupulously avoided any public displays of affection, and although he was not wearing his clerical collar this morning, even a hug felt dangerous.

“I don’t have to go to this conference,” she said. “We could spend the week together.”

He sighed. “Maura, I can’t just disappear for a week.”

“When can you?”

“I need time to arrange a leave. We’ll get away, I promise.”

“It always has to be someplace else, though, doesn’t it? Someplace where no one knows us. For once, I’d like to spend a week with you without having to go away.”

He glanced at the policeman, who was moving back in their direction. “We’ll talk about it when you get back next week.”

“Hey, mister!” the cop yelled. “Move your car now.”

“Of course we’ll talk.” She laughed. “We’re good at talking about it, aren’t we? It’s all we ever seem to do.” She grabbed her suitcase.