Chapter 1

Marti sat frozen on the church picnic bench, the paper plate of potato salad forgotten in her lap. The autumn sun was warm on her shoulders. Kids laughed on the playground—the same sound she had heard at these church picnics for decades. Julie’s words still hung in the air between them.

“Swinging?” Marti repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. She glanced around automatically, as if someone might overhear. “Julie ... what does that even mean?”

Julie took a slow sip of her iced tea, unhurried. She and Bill had been at First Community almost as long as Jeff and Marti. Same small group. Same Christmas cantata. Same potlucks. Nothing about her suggested she would know the answer to that question, much less offer it.

“It means couples who are committed to each other sometimes invite other couples into their bedroom,” Julie said quietly. “With rules. With honesty. For the marriage, not against it.” She met Marti’s eyes. “You said you and Jeff feel stale. That the house is too quiet now that Hannah’s gone. I’m just saying ... some people find the spark comes back when they stop pretending the bed is only for sleep and duty.”

Marti’s face burned. She and Jeff had been faithful. Completely. From the night of their wedding until this moment. They had raised three children on that conviction—Michael, now twenty-eight and coaching high-school basketball two states away; Sarah, twenty-six, married and expecting their first grandchild; and Hannah, the baby, twenty-two and finally in her own apartment. Faithfulness had never felt like a burden. It had simply been the air they breathed.

Until lately.

The last year or two had settled into a quiet routine: dinner, the news, bed by ten. Jeff’s hand on her hip had become more habit than hunger. She had stopped initiating. He had stopped noticing. Neither of them had said the words “I’m lonely,” but both of them felt it.