The narrator meets Davey at the Buccaneer bar, briefly encountering his friends before settling at an outdoor table. Over tequila, she describes her artistic life and tries to guess his secret passion. He reveals he is a street dancer, and then stuns her by admitting he recognized her from the start—he saw her at the gas station, watched her through the windshield, followed her to Fontana's, and spotted her car at the motel. He tells her plainly: "You came back for me." She resists acknowledging it but cannot deny their mutual attraction. He touches the back of his hand to hers and suggests they leave. They walk to the Excelsior, where they explore the redecorated room together. Davey sets a boundary—they can touch feet and arms but go no further—though his visible arousal and the charged atmosphere make the restraint agonizing. They spend hours in the great chairs holding hands, shifting positions, recounting their earlier encounters as a courtship. At 3:27 a.m. he leaves; she runs through the night, exhilarated.

The next morning she texts him an uninhibited declaration of desire. After hours of anguished waiting, he replies at noon: "I feel the same way." She spends the day preparing her body and appearance. Harris calls about household matters; she weeps on the phone, and he encourages her to push past discomfort. A flashback interlude recounts her PTSD from Sam's NICU stay—triggered by a foot-pedal sink in Griffith Park—and her discovery of the FMH mothers' message board, which she lurks on for fellowship. She lies to Harris, saying she's having dinner with "Mary."

She meets Davey at Hertz and he leads her through a smoothie shop's back door, across the alley, and climbs through her motel window to avoid being seen. Inside, they hold each other and he asks about her marriage; she says she is fully married, same as him. They lie together on the carpet listening to R&B, carefully pulling apart when arousal intensifies. She sucks on his fingers; he sets time boundaries, leaving by eight for Claire. Over subsequent days they develop a routine—four hours together each afternoon. She transforms her skin with baking soda and Vanicream, buys a dildo, and has vivid fantasies. She tells Jordi everything; Jordi asks if she's in love and the narrator emphatically denies it, dismissing Davey as "goofy."

On Sunday, Davey performs a dance he choreographed for her. After initial resistance, the narrator is overcome—his movement is transcendent, expressing their connection with ecstatic precision. She calls it the happiest moment of her life. Afterward, in the shower, he panics about Claire's signature bath gel scent on his skin and douses himself in mouthwash. He wraps his arms around her head and whispers he has to go. That evening, Jordi suspects the narrator may be in love; the narrator insists otherwise, creating a brief distance between them.

The next day Davey can only stay an hour. Alone with too much time, the narrator orders a giant spoon for Sam, calls Sam via FaceTime, and fakes a view of "Manhattan" from atop a Los Angeles parking garage. Sam asks about a dog and counts down five days until her return. As she nears the motel, Davey texts that he's there—with Claire and a new mattress. Claire directs Davey to carry it inside. The narrator and Davey swap out his old marital mattress for the new one while Claire helps remake the bed. The narrator silently frames this domestic act as a "Ritual of Permission"—Claire unknowingly blessing what is to come.