“Not really,” I say. “But… yeah? Maybe?”
Tori raises a brow. “Is that a question or an answer?”
“I don’t know?” I laugh nervously. It comes out sounding like I’m asking their permission to exist.
“Youdosay that a lot,” Kate adds, crossing her legs like she’s the therapist and not another member of the Cheaters Survival Gang. It’s not the real name, btw.
“Well, I don’t!” I protest. “Guys, come on, I’m not crazy, right?”
“You’re not crazy,” Jackie says gently. Then ruins it by adding, “But youareleading him on.”
“What?” My voice cracks like a teenager’s.
Kate jumps in, flipping her hair. “Look, I was in a similar place, stay or go, forgive or set his clothes on fire, but once I decided, I stuck to it. I didn’t go to therapyandstill say ‘I don’t know.’” She gestures at me. “You’re mean. Damn.”
My jaw drops. “I’mmean?”
“Oh,incredibly,” Tori says brightly. “You’ve got that sweet soft voice but the emotional whiplash? Lethal. You let him think you’re reconciling but still won’t commit. Girl, that man is living in purgatory.”
Trish lifts her hands. “I think what we’retryingto say is… you’re kind of dangling the hope carrot.”
“I amnotdangling anything.”
Silence.
Three pairs of eyebrows float upward like synchronized swimmers.
Jackie leans forward. “Do you want him back?”
My mouth opens.
Closes.
Opens.
“…I don’t know.”
They all groan in perfect harmony.
Kate throws her hands up. “Ofcourseyou don’t.”
Patrick
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I say softly, then step back to give the woman space.
There’s nothing glorious about this part of the job.
Telling a wife of twenty-three years that her husband wasn’t dead in a ditch like she feared, no, he was dead in his girlfriend’s bed.
The girlfriend was so terrified she didn’t even call 911 right away. Just left him lying there and panicked. And the ME is sure he died instantly from a massive coronary, so no charges, no criminal intent. Just the lifelong knowledge that while his wife filed a missing person’s report, he was dead in her bed.
Cases like this make me wonder if marriage is even worth it. I mean, if you’re just going to cheat… why get married? And yeah, I hear the irony coming out of my own damn mouth.
Mine wasn’t an affair or a choice, I tell myself.
Then roll my eyes because that’s exactly the kind of excuse Blake, my sponsor, would tear apart in two seconds.
I pull out my phone and fire a text to Lore.
