Men dream of starting over. Not neccessarily with another woman. They dream of a clean slate, of disappearing, of walking off a plane on a layover and making a new life for themselves in a strange city - Grand Rapids, say, or Nashville. They dream of an apartment all their own, of silence, of joining Delta Force and fighting in Iraq, of introducing themselves by the nickname they'd always wish they had. Of a time and place where they can use everything they know now that they hadn't known then - that is, before they were married. And then they might be happy.
Sitting in the living room, in his favourite chair, with his wife sobbing in her bed for hours on end, Hastroll understood this dream. Sit alone in the dark long enough, he thought, and it seems worth killing for.