In the end, I’d won the argument, but I could see it had cost David to give in. He’d made it clear that he’d be eagerly awaiting my call with an update.
I jolted from my thoughts with the jingle of keys outside the door. In slow motion, one slid into its slot as my heart slid into my stomach. I saw, but barely registered, my husband enter the apartment and set down his stuff. He said something, but a dull buzzing in my head drowned it out. That, and the deafening pounding of my heart.
Bill came closer, his face drawn with . . . something. Concern? My hands began to shake and white spots pierced my vision. Air no longer entered my body, but I had no way of controlling that. I blinked . . . I blinked . . .
Darkness. My world moved, slowly at first and then faster. I was being shaken, and that didn’t help my nausea.
“Liv, wake up,” Bill said, his voice frantic. “Are you okay?”
I opened my eyes and took in my surroundings. I was in Bill’s arms, on the kitchen floor as he stared at me, his eyebrows furrowed with anxiety.
I just looked back at him, studying his features, inches from my face, for what might be the last time. His soft brown hair. Crooked nose. Light and mild eyes. I wanted to tell him I loved him, that everything would be okay, and that I’d never meant to hurt him. I wanted to tell him I was leaving because he deserved to be loved in a way I wasn’t capable of. I wanted to tell him I was leaving because webothdeserved better. But I didn’t know how to say all of that, so I just said, “I’m leaving.”
“You fell off the chair,” he replied. “You might’ve hit your head.”
My eyes remained on him. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “For everything. But I’m leaving . . . you.”
I hit the floor with athud, wincing when my elbows connected with the linoleum. Bill stood and looked down at me, blinking with obvious disbelief. “You’re what?” he asked. “Leavingme? What does that mean?”
I eased off my back and onto one elbow. Everything I’d planned to say vanished from my thoughts, and now I just searched for anything.
“I’m done with the games,” Bill said quietly. “Just say it.Youare leavingme . . .even afterIgave you a second chance.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said as I got to my feet. “The last few months, the terrible way I’ve treated you . . . I tried to forget him, to make things work between you and me.”
“You have a hell of a way of making things work.”
“I didn’t want this,” I said.
“The affair has been an adjustment,” Bill said, rolling his neck. “Maybe I’m doing it wrong. There are probably better ways of handling it. I’ve done a lot of thinking since you told me, though. I see there are things we could work on.” He seemed to pause to collect himself, then cleared his throat. “I want to try, Livs. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over this, but I want to try.”
“Bill,” I whispered, fidgeting in the middle of the kitchen. “I love him.”
Bill’s jaw flexed, and I read the shock in his eyes. “Youlovehim?”
“Yes.”
His entire body jerked. “You never told me things had gotten that far.”
“You didn’t ask,” I stated.
“I didn’t ask? Oh, excuse-fucking-me.” He began to pace the kitchen. “It didn’t occur to me that a logical person like you could fall in love with someone like that.”
Someone like thatdidn’t fall in love—only lust. Gretchen had reacted the same way at first, and Lucy believed that, too. I crossed my arms. “I think itdidoccur to you,” I said, “but you didn’t care enough to ask.”
Bill stopped and rubbed his fingers over his forehead. “Of course I care,” he muttered.
“I know you do,” I said with a sigh. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
“And what about me?” Bill asked, looking directly at me. “Don’t you love me?”
I swallowed the rising lump in my throat. “It’s not that simple.”
His hair flopped over his forehead, and he pushed his hands through it. “What’s more simple than that?”
I drew in halting breaths. “Bill, I love you, I always will. But this isn’t working—”
“It’s not working? I don’t understand how that’smyfault. Itwasworking, then you slept with another man, and now it’snotworking. How am I the one who gets screwed?”
