She bit her lip. “You mean, apart from the fact it’s non-existent?”
Heat crept up the back of my neck. “That’s not entirely?—”
“When was the last time?” she asked gently.
I opened my mouth, then stopped. I didn’t know. Or rather, I did, but the fact that I had to think about it at all said enough.
Diana watched me, that same sadness etched across her face.
“We’ve been together what—fifteen years?” she said. “Married for twelve.”
I nodded.
“And in the beginning, it was fine,” she went on. “Not wildly passionate, maybe, but… good. Comfortable.”
“Yes.” Comfortable had always been the word.
Diana rested her hands on the table. “But somewhere along the way, it… stopped. And I kept telling myself it was stress, or work, or simply what happens when people settle into a routine.”
I swallowed.
“And you let me believe that,” she added, her gaze locked on mine.
“I didn’t know how to—” I began.
“How to what?”
The truth hovered there, just out of reach.
Diana leaned forwards. “Kieran,” she said, softer now, “I’ve felt for a long time that you were keeping something from me.”
I stared at her.
“And not just from me,” she added. “From yourself.”
Oh shit.
I let out a slow breath. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“I know. That’s not what this is about.” She paused. “Can I ask you something?”
I nodded, my pulse racing.
“Have you ever wanted me?”
I closed my eyes for a moment. “I care about you.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I opened my eyes again. “In the beginning, I thought I did.”
Diana absorbed that without flinching. “And now?”
I couldn’t answer.
Diana nodded slowly. “That’s what I thought.” She looked down at her hands, then back up at me. “Is it women in general, or just me?”
The breath caught in my throat. I could feel the impulse rising, impossible to push back any longer. Something in me gave way, all the half-formed thoughts, the careful avoidance, the years of not quite naming it… All of it collapsed into a single, undeniable truth.