But we weren’t. Obviously, since Kyle had an affair. By now, the fact that my husband cheated on me shouldn’t still hurt so much, but it does. The one person who vowed to love me and forsake all others… didn’t.
His sins wounded me deeply, but I still miss him, which feels pretty pathetic.
I pick up his pillow and press it into my face, inhaling. It’s been three months since he left me and abandoned our family, and I still can’t bring myself to wash his pillowcase. Over time, his scent has slowly faded, but tonight is the first time I can’t detect even the faintest trace. It’s as if the last thread tethering us together has finally snapped.
My marriage is over.
Hell, the marriage I thought we had never even existed. It was all built upon a tangled web of lies and deceit.
My eyes burn with tears, and my body feels heavy, but not only with sadness. It’s more complicated than that. It takes me a while to decipher my feelings before I settle on a surprising one.
Longing.
Longing for someone I can depend on, someone who can be strong for me when I feel weak. Longing for the companionship of a steady romantic partner. For someone to kiss goodbye in the morning and hug hello at the end of a hard day. To share all the pieces of my life, from the mundane to the extraordinary. To love someone and have them love me in return.
I’ve pushed those feelings down over the last few months, forced to prioritize everything else. Sadness, shock, betrayal, anger, regret. Those feelings took center stage, leaving no room for anything else.
But after one night with Hayes, those buried longings bubble back to the surface, uninvited yet undeniable.
In the future, I hope that I’ll have room for a romantic partner, but now isn’t the time.
Later,I tell myself,later.
6
Hayes
Then
My hands won’t stop sweating no matter how many times I wipe them on my jeans. I’ve played college football in packed stadiums and sung in sold-out arenas, but I’ve never been as nervous as I am right now.
I’ve taken Rowdy and Bailey’s advice to heart and asked Jane to meet so I can end our relationship.
Assuming we haven’t already broken up. It seems redundant to me. I’m 95% sure we alreadydid.
Okay, maybe 90% sure.
I didn’t tell Jane the reason for the meeting, just that we needed to talk. But after three days of radio silence on my end, what else can she expect?
Nelson, my condo building doorman, called to announce Jane’s arrival. On cue, the penthouse elevator doors chime as they open into my foyer.
Jane’s outfit is on point, as usual. Her strawberry blonde hair is styled in a sleek French twist, and her makeup, applied with a light hand, highlights her natural beauty. She’s wearing a royal blue dress that looks like it was custom-made to fit her body. Years ago, I mentioned that blue made her eyes pop, and ever since, she has worn the color almost daily.
Looking at Jane, you’d never guess she’s grieving a breakup, or in the middle of a fight, depending on who you ask, with someone she claims to love. She appears poised, polished, and completely dispassionate. It’s a stark reminder of why we’re here today. The passion I shared with Annabelle made it clear what I want in a romantic partner. And what Jane and I always lacked.
Like the rest of her, Jane’s sapphire eyes are cool and composed.
Nothing like the warmth of Annabelle’s sunflower eyes.
Jane glides toward me, her arms outstretched in welcome, while I stand from my chair. I greet her, my voice sounding raspier than normal because the nerves are getting to me. Jane rushes into my arms, and I awkwardly pat her back before releasing her.
“Ruston Hayes, I have missed you so much. I’m sorry I stormed out on you. I should never have broached the topic of marriage.” She stands on her tiptoes to reach up for a kiss, but I retreat to avoid her lips. A look of hurt crosses her face as she falls back onto her heels. “You aren’t ready for that level of commitment yet, so I’ll give you more time.”
Well, shit, this isn’t going as planned.
I motion for her to sit in the chair next to mine. Taking a deep breath, I scrape my hands through my hair as I try to remember the speech Bailey helped me practice last night.
“Jane, you’ll always be family to me. But our fight," the word sticks in my throat, because I still can’t quite accept that it wasn’t really a breakup, "was a wake-up call. We tried to make this work, but the truth is we want different things. You deserve someone who can love you, but that person isn't me.”
