Richard Kind

He reaches for his wallet.

He wonders if he's made a terrible mistake committing his life to the church.

Hermione puts down her ukulele and covers her mouth.

Oh my God, Bacon Boy, she gasps.

Thank you so much for the $500 donation.

Toby types a heart emoji.

Thanks for listening, he says quietly.

For a moment, guilt and shame overtake him.

And then he closes the tab and deletes his internet history.

Toby wakes the next morning and stumbles into the kitchen to find Marta in her flight attendant uniform, leaning on the counter and cradling a coffee cup.

A packed sports bag lays by her side.

He does not disclose what he knows.

He does not casually ask about the bikini and the platform heels hidden in the bag.

or ask how much she was tipped last night, grinding on the laps of groomsmen and divorcees and fraternity brothers celebrating their 21st birthdays.

At any rate, he wants to know nothing about that.

Mostly, he wants to ask how she manages to function with so little sleep.

He vaguely recalls her slipping into their bed at some point early this morning, and he is thankful that she still sleeps in the same bed as him.

But instead, he forces a smile and cheerfully greets her a good morning.

Outside the kitchen window, it is dark and gloomy.

In fact, it's begun to rain.