His expression shifted, growing heavier. “There’s something else. Something I need to tell you in case we never speak again after today.”
The sudden gravity in his voice made my stomach tighten. “What?”
He took a breath, and I watched him gather courage like it was something physical he had to reach for. “When you walked in on me with Crystal... you might have heard me say something.”
My blood went cold. I knew exactly what he was talking about. Those words had haunted me for months, playing on repeat in my nightmares.
I’ve been thinking about this pussy all day.
“I remember,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I felt sick just thinking about it.
“It wasn’t her.” He met my eyes, and I saw something raw and ashamed there. “The pussy I was thinking about. It wasn’t Crystal’s. It was yours.”
I blinked, not understanding. “What?”
“When I was with other women...” He stopped, rubbed a hand over his face. Started again. “I know how fucked up this sounds. I know it doesn’t make it better—probably makes it worse. But when I was with them, I was thinking about you. Every time. I’d close my eyes and pretend it was you. I’d—” His voice cracked. “I’d spend all day thinking about being with you, and then I’d take that energy to someone else because you weren’t there, and I was too weak and too selfish to wait.”
I sat frozen, trying to process what he was saying.
“That’s what I meant when I said it to Crystal. I’d been thinking about you all day. Missing you. Wanting you. And instead of waiting for you to come home, I took what I was feeling and gave it to someone who didn’t matter.” He laughed, but it was hollow. “I was so fucked up, Indira. I didn’t even understand what I was doing. I thought because I was thinking of you, it was somehow... I don’t know. Less wrong. Like you were still the one I wanted, so it didn’t count.”
“That’s...” I couldn’t find the words.
“Insane. I know. Twisted. I know that too.” He leaned forward, and I could see his hands were shaking. “I’m not telling you this to make excuses. There are no excuses. I’m telling you because you deserved to know the full truth. All of it. Even theparts that make me look even worse than you already thought I was.”
I sat there, my mind reeling. All those months I’d tortured myself imagining him fantasizing about Crystal, counting down the hours until he could fuck her. And the reality was somehow both better and worse. He’d been thinking of me—wanting me—and still choosing to betray me anyway.
“So let me get this straight,” I said slowly. “You were thinking about me... while you were inside other women.”
He flinched at the bluntness. “Yes.”
“And you thought that made it okay?”
“No. I don’t think I thought about it at all. That’s the problem. I didn’t think—I just took what I wanted when I wanted it and told myself stories to make it feel acceptable.” He shook his head. “I was selfish. Immature. Incapable of understanding that what I was doing was a betrayal even if you were the one I actually wanted.”
Something in his voice—the raw shame, the complete lack of defense—cracked something open in my chest. Not forgiveness. But something.
“You’re right,” I said finally. “That is fucked up.”
“I know.”
“It doesn’t make it better.”
“I know that too.”
“But...” I paused, searching for the right words. “It changes something. I don’t know what yet. But it changes something.”
He nodded, not pushing for more. Just accepting whatever I was willing to give.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “For telling me the truth. Even knowing it made you look worse.”
“You deserved the whole picture. Not just the version that made me look like I could be redeemed.” He met my eyes. “Iwanted you to know that, even if you decide I’m not worth another chance.”
I studied him carefully, this man who’d once demanded my exclusive devotion while offering none in return. “You really have changed.”
“I’m trying to.” He met my eyes. “The man I was would have seen this conversation as a failure. The man I’m trying to be sees it as a chance to prove I can actually put your needs first.”
We sat in silence after that, the weight of everything he’d said settling between us like something physical. Neither of us seemed to know what to say next. Maybe there wasn’t anything to say—not yet, anyway.
