"No." My brows knit. "Richard isn't going."
"You're lying."
"I'mnot," I say, my patience cracking.
"You lied the other day when you said you were busy. Went with him to some Halloween party."
"I didn't lie. I told you I had a plan.Thatwas the plan," I fire. "And I couldn't tell you because you instantly snap every time I mention him."
He frowns. "I have to ask you something, and you need to be honest. Completely honest. For once."
My eyes narrow. "Nice insult. Didn't pass unnoticed. What?" I snap.
He crosses his arms and studies me with hunter-sharp eyes, tracking for dishonesty. Then, a sharp inhale before he says, "Are you sleeping with him?"
I roll my eyes, my jaw locking. "We already had this conversation."
"Emma," he says like he knows something I don't. "Don't tell me a man lies next to you for two months and doesn't even touch you."
"Well, you didn't—for a year," I say pointedly.
"That was different," he snaps, louder. "We were friends.He's your—" his jaw grinds, "—husband."
That snap right there—I've seen this mood before and it's barely manageable. The only thing I can do is lower my voice and try to calm him down.
I step closer, put my hand on his shoulder because he won't open his arms.
"Ben, I already told you, I haven't touched Richard in months," I say, as softly as I can since I'm also upset. "Not that you need to know, but even before you... we barely did it."
It's true. But his shoulders stay rigid, and I know I can't tell him the full truth—that Richard's hands have been wandering because we're still married, and my excuses are running thin.
If I told Ben, I don't know what he would do.
Ben swallows, throat working like he's trying to digest bile. "I hope you're not lying about this one. If you did, we'd be over. We're sinners, but we shouldn't lie to each other. Alright?"
"Yeah. Alright," I echo dryly.
He rolls his eyes and walks over to the sofa to slump on it. "Not fair, making me feel guilty for wanting more. You've practically lived here the past week."
"I could say the same," I fire back. "Carl's losing it because I barely reply. I'm a shitty friend to Lu. And now? You make me feel like crap."
"I make you feel like crap?" He drags his hand through his hair and turns away from me. "Yeah right. I'm too tired for this. Need some sleep. Just go, please."
I blink, caught off guard, my cheeks heating up instantly. "Are you kicking me out?"
"No, but I also don't want to see your face now."
My jaw drops as I stand by the door, eyes burning into his back. "You don't mean that."
"I do," he says flatly and turns his head slightly. "Thought you were in a hurry?"
I scoff. Yank my heels from the rack and force my feet in. "You know, sometimes I hate you. It's time you learn how to manage your anger without torching the whole damn world."
"You need to learn how to stop lying," he shoots back and lies down. "See you."
I can't believe he's doing this, when one of our rules is never to leave the house fighting—when I'm not going to see him for four days.
"Perfect!" I shout, shouldering my bag. "See you never."
