"You have," I interrupt him again. "And I’m sure it makes you feel better."
"I want to make it right. I need to."
"Youneedto?" I echo, leaning back. "Why?"
"Because I love you, Mia."
I just stare at him and let the words wash over me.
"Really?" I tilt my head. "And where was that love when you had your tongue stuck down whatshername’s throat?"
His eyes widen in shock for a moment, and then he regroups. I see it happen. He wasn’t expecting thebitch, he was expecting his wife. But after that scene on Christmas Eve, he should have known better.
“I…it was a mistake.”
“No,honey, the mistake was me letting you and your family disrespect me for years,” I flung at him. My words were laced withsarcasm.
“I know.” He runs his fingers through his hair. It’s a nervous gesture. “I know. I couldn’t see it then. I see it now and…I’m so fucking sorry.”
"Oh, well then," I sneer, "why don’t we just forgive and forget?"
He rises, and I know he wants to come to the other side of the coffee table, sit next to me, hold my feet as he talks to me, like he does, like I used to let him when we fought in the old days, when we were whole.
I hold up a hand. "That’s close enough. You may have caught a disease or two from her—or God knows who else you’ve been cozy with. What do I know?"
He freezes at that.
His eyes close for a beat.
When they open, I see it. Pain. Regret. Fear.
I should feel triumphant.
I feel nothing but the dull ache of grief. I don’t want to hurt him. I just want my own pain to stop.
"I’ve never crossed that line in our marriage," he says, his voice low.
"Except with her."
He nods, defeated. “It was only a kiss, Mia. And only that one time.”
“Convenient.”
“I swear to you.”
I make a face to let him know what I think of his statement.
“I…just give me a?—"
“What?”
“A chance,” he shouts. “Damn it, Mia, eight years we’ve been together, you can’t let one damn kiss ruin us.”
It’s laugh or cry. I choose the former.
“Iruined us? What the hell are you smoking, Aiden? You are the one who chose to go to Paris with Diana onourwedding anniversary. Do you know that she was kind enough to post photos about your trip on Instagram? I don’t have any social media, but my colleagues do. They all mentioned it. I wasn’t humiliatedat all.”
“I told you that was about an important meeting and….” He falters. “That was a complete fuck up on my part.”
