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Hal thinks he knows her. Alice sees it every time he looks at her, every time he speaks over her at a fancy party, every time he flashes a smarmy grin at her across the dinner table. In some respects, he does; you don't spend over twenty years with someone without learning something about them, about their history and desires and traits.
But in other respects, he's so utterly clueless that Alice almost pities him.
He has no idea that she has despised him for longer than she can remember. He has no idea that she's planning on pulling the paper out from underneath him one day in the future.
Mainly, however, he has no idea that she's been intermittently fantasizing about Hermione Lodge since high school, since they all still had their maiden names.
Now that Hermione is back in town, just as gorgeous as the day she left, all of those thoughts have come back in full force.
She excuses herself after dinner one night to have a bath for the headache she tells Hal she has. He simply shrugs and goes back to staring at the television, and she heads upstairs, sinks into the hot water, and slides her fingers into herself while thinking about having Hermione's long legs draped over her shoulders.
When she returns downstairs, there's no sign that he suspects anything, and Alice refuses to feel guilty.
What he doesn't know won't kill him.
(There are some days where she wishes that it would.)