“I want to live with Amanda for a while,” he said. “I'm sorry, but I—"
“Done. What else?”
“Oh, okay.” His smile was quick to appear, and he laughed in relief. “I was expecting waterworks and lots of emotions.”
My nostrils flared as I sucked in a breath and again pressed my nails hard into my palms. It was either that or slap him for real.
“If you think for one moment that I'll shed even a single tear over you, you're sorely mistaken,” I lied. Anger was winning right now, but it was already draining, leaving a hollow ache in my chest. “You come here telling me you thought we'd agreed to have an open marriage without ever actually having discussed that directly with me even once.”
Amanda looked down and closed her eyes, then exhaled slowly. She withdrew her hand from his and clasped them on her lap. It was a subtle rejection, the complete opposite of me. I wanted to rage, to hurt him, to shatter this illusion he was living inside. What alternate reality was he living in that he thought his behavior was acceptable?
I reached for the first thing that grabbed my attention—the stupid tide clock he loved. I ripped it off the wall and thrust it at him, hitting him in the chest far harder than I should have. With an “Oomph,” he took it from me. The look of bewilderment on Si’s face would have been comical if it wasn’t so appalling.
“You've been cheating on me for half our marriage. Ineveragreed to the two of you seeing each other. Now you tell me you're having a baby together, and you expect me to, what, cry and beg you to stay?” Never mind that was exactly what I’d wanted to do five minutes earlier. Past me was a whole different person from present me. I didn’t want him back. I couldn’timagine staying married to someone who’d deceived me for so long.
Amanda looked like she’d been slapped. Her face paled and she swallowed hard.
Simon opened his mouth to speak, but I narrowed my eyes at him and clenched my jaw. He sighed and I continued, my tone becoming sharper as I held back the desire to physically rip his head from his bodyMortal Kombatstyle. “Do you actually believe I have that little self-respect?”
I went to the cupboard and took out his favorite mug, then shoved that into his hands too. “Get out, Simon. Pack your things and leave. Be gone by the time LaShelle gets here. I'll have divorce papers issued to you as soon as I can have them drawn up.”
“No, don't do that. We can make it work.” He stood up and tried to grasp my arms, but I shoved him away.
“Get out, Simon,” I growled. I didn’t recognize my voice. It was cold and hard.
I didn’t give him an opportunity to argue. Turning on my feet, I marched straight for the bathroom. Once I had the door locked and the hot water on, I finally took a breath. My jaw, shoulders, and neck ached, the muscles there so tense, it felt like they could snap. Steam billowed from the combined bath and shower, the shower curtain hanging limp as scalding water cascaded down into the drain.
I stripped, then stepped into the tub and hissed as the hot water stung my body. It took all my willpower not to jump straight back out. But that concentration was exactly what I needed to distract myself from the man I now called my ex and his apparent girlfriend packing his belongings. The sooner he was gone, the better.
Oh God, this was really happening.
We were done.
Over.
My marriage had just imploded before my eyes.
All those dreams—every time I’d imagined we’d grow old together, sit in rocking chairs on the covered veranda, holding hands while we watched our grandkids run around the yard—all our plans were gone, dissipated like mist on a foggy morning.
Why had he done this? Why had he betrayed my trust? We’d pledged to be faithful to each other. Heck, if he’d just been honest with me from the beginning, I may have even agreed. I had no problem with open relationships. I was familiar with them and polyamorous ones—Simon knew I’d previously dated a husband and wife couple—but our relationship had never been open. We’d agreed to be exclusive from early on. Our marriage was the same—exclusive. At least I thought it had been. We’d never even discussed opening it up or adding someone else. Amanda was genuinely beautiful. Under other circumstances, I could have been attracted to her. But not like this. Never like this.
How had he misread my encouragement so dramatically? How had their affair gone on for so long without me finding out? It wasn’t fair. I just wanted everything to go back to normal.
But our relationship hadn’t been normal for a long time, had it?
I’d been living a lie.
Simon had pretended to be a dedicated husband. He’d apologized every time he needed to go away, telling me it was for work. But it was a lie. He’d been playing house with his piece on the side. They’d been living a secret life together right under my nose. Now, when it came time to admit it, he was playing obtuse and acting as if I’d encouraged him to date her.
My knees gave out, and I slid to the floor of the tub. I curled into myself, wanting to disappear—needing it. Hot tears welled up in my eyes and overflowed, cascading down my cheeks inrivers. I bit my knuckles, trying to stop the sobs from breaking free.
I wouldn’t let them hear me cry.
I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing they’d hurt me.
I gulped in air as tears streamed down my face and hot water pelted my back. I shivered, feeling cold despite the heat of the shower. I was freezing. Every part of me was like a barren wasteland again. Empty. Every time I exhaled, the shell holding me together became more brittle.
The water ran cold before long, and I reached up for the faucet and shut it off. Steam lingered, but a bitter chill seeped into me far too quickly. Shivering, I reached for my towel and dragged it over my shoulders. The material was soft and fluffy, but the way it abraded my skin was like sandpaper. Every part of me hurt.