DEVIATION
THE SIXTH

URIEL ENTERED his house, laughing to himself. The storm would probably cover his entrance, wouldn’t it? Perhaps he should be more quiet.

He laughed anyway. Of course. He moved up the stairs, leaving wet steps. He pushed open the door to the bedroom. Mary screamed, reaching for blankets. Adram scrambled out of the bed in shock, falling to the floor.

Uriel took off his jacket, shaking the rain free. “You know, this makes sense,” he said, chuckling. “The world makes sense for once. I could actually have guessed this would happen!”

Adram—a look of sheer panic on his face—barreled out of the room, carrying his trousers. Mary was weeping. Why should she cry? She hadn’t been hurt.

Uriel sat down on the bed. “I stayed late too many times, I see. That’s a number. I can add that in a column and see what it creates. If it had been another person in the office talking about his wife, I probably would have noticed immediately what was happening.” He looked toward her. “But it wasn’t another man’s wife. It was you. The flaw was never in the numbers. It’s in me. I can’t see them when you are involved.”

“Uriel . . .” she said, reaching a trembling hand toward him. Below, Adram’s monster of a car roared to life.

“Now, now, don’t worry about me. I don’t have emotions, you see. Adram explained it all. I . . . I don’t . . .” That wetness on his cheeks. Rainwater, obviously. He took a deep breath. “Jori?”

She glanced wildly at the clock. “Jori!”

“I’ll go for him,” Uriel said, standing. “I hope he’s not riding home in this. And then, weren’t we going to have Thai? Something special. For me . . .”

Uriel walked toward the door.

“Uriel . . .” Mary said. “I’m sor—”

“Stop. You don’t get to say that.”

He walked out. Where had his smile gone? The situation really was amazing. Perfect, even. That he should be so oblivious. He—

Tires screeched outside.