I doubt anything can.
Some may say it was just a kiss.
But it’s more than that.
It’s that hewantedto kiss her.
How long did he wantthat?
How long, while he was with me, did he think of her likethat?
Did he regret marrying me because he wanted her?
All the times he ignored me for her, all the times he was with her, whether in the office or outside, was he having these thoughts? And if he was, isn’t that the definition of cheating, even if it isn’tphysical?
The action is less profound when your spouse has an affair. It’s the intent behind it that’s the knife that cleaves your heart.
“Stop it,” Katya growls.
“Stop what?” I pick up my straw purse and walk past her into the hallway.
“You knowwhat.” She follows me into the living room. “Don’t think about the past. Focus on the present. You know what they say; stay in the moment. If you don’t like the moment, eat a cookie.”
“And hence have a cookie problem?” I smirk.
She laughs, and just then, there’s a knock on the front door.
I look at my watch. He’s on time. When was the last time he was on time?Never.
I rub my chest. Katya is right, I can’t keep bringing up the past—but how can I not?
Katya gives me a knowing look and wags her finger.
“He’s become real punctual.” I eye the door like it’s diseased. “Where was this when we were married?”
“He’s changing. He’s doing better. You gonna blame him for the past or accept that he’s actually making an effort in the present?” she challenges.
I scowl. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do,” she replies smugly as she flops onto the sofa.
I flip her the bird, and open the door.
His smile falters when he sees my face.
“Mia, hon, you need to deal with your cookie problem,” Katya calls out as I slam the door shut behind me.
“All okay?” Aiden asks.
“Sure,” I snap. “Let’s get this done with.”
Am I being a bitch?Hell, yeah.
Can I stop myself?No.
I have a major cookie problem!
He takes me to Trattoria Delia.
