I can’t marry this man.Why did I ever think I’d be able to?
“Maybe you’re right,” I say quietly. I walk my mug over to the sink, watching as the liquid swirls in circles with the movement. As restless as I was before he got home, a peacefulness I’ve never known settles inside me, and I say the one thing that will break us entirely. “I kissed my therapist.”
Lance’s voice floats over to me. “I’m sorry, did you just say?—”
I cut him off. “Yes,Lance. I said I kissed my therapist,” I repeat as I tip the mug over and watch the tea drip into the sink.It spirals the drain and sinks down into the pipes below, my disappointment following.
“Jesus Christ, Emory, that is wildly inappropriate. Not to mention the fact that we areengaged.”
The corner of my lip lifts in a sad smile as defeat winds through me. He’s not going to like hearing what I say next, but I’m having a hard time caring about that when I’ve been trying to get him to listen to me, and every time, my words fall into deaf ears.
A person can only do so much before there’s no more rope to hang on to.
Maybe one day he’ll understand that he was half the reason for that.
“You’re right, about everything you just said. But the truth is that he makes me feel one thousand percent more cherished and heard than you. I can no longer sit here and ignore that. I’ve tried to break past this difficult season we’ve been having. I’ve tried expelling energy toward it, but you’re just as checked out as I am.”
“I can’t fucking believe this,” Lance says as I twist around and look at him.
“We don’t belong together.”
It’s a hard truth, but a truth all the same.
Disbelief flitters in his eyes almost immediately. I realize I’ve stricken a chord when his nostrils flare. “So you’re unhappy with me, and instead of telling me, you go and fuck your therapist?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “You know that’s not what I said. But also, it’s not just me who’s unhappy. In fact, you’re the one who said before that neither of us are. You told us to keep living life and that we’d eventually have a conversation—well, surprise, it’s conversation time.”
His forehead wrinkles and his brows push together as he completely disregards what I say. “You’ve been lying to me allthis time. Un-fucking-believable, Emory.” He turns around and brings his hands to his face, exasperation evident in his features. He spins to me again. “How long has this been going on for? How long have you been cozying up with him and playing ‘patient?’”
I almost scoff at his words. “Wow, Lance. You’re the one who pushed me to see him—yes, your mother dropped that ball on me this afternoon by sharing how damaging it would have been to your reputation to have your fiancée mentally admitted, and now you’re going to stand there and say that to me? And I wasn’t lying to you,” I add.
“That’s exactly what you did. You lied and fucked around with another man behind my back.”
I break. “Because you weren’t there for me! Because what we had was broken!”
He huffs out a breath, unaffected by my loud voice. “That doesn’t excuse your behavior. The fact you think it does is alarming in and of itself.”
“That’s not why I said it. I’m being honest, something you should try being, too. Look in the mirror, Lance. You haven’t been here. You don’t stick up for me. When was the last time we even had sex?”
He shakes his head and looks away. “I can’t believe this. I fucking love you foryearsand this is how you act?”
He nearly sounds just like his mother, and I get it. In their eyes, I’m a shameful, shameful woman—an embarrassment to the fullest extent of the word.
Tears pool in the corners of my eyes as the sickening reality dawns on me that I’ve fractured the life we’ve built together. Lance and I had a promising future, but that slowly sifted away, covered by the realities of life.
“I truly am sorry. I never planned for all of this to happen, but I can’t ignore what I feel anymore. I can’t ignore that beingwith you feels…wrong.” I keep my gaze steady on him as his face flushes with heat. He’d never lay his hands on me, but he’s also never been one to hide his anger when he’s been pushed into a corner.
He purses his lips. “What am I supposed to tell people? My parents?”
Emotion flickers in the back of my throat, making my voice crackle when I continue. “The truth, Lance.”
He clenches his jaw. That storminess in his eyes blackens to a shade I don’t think I’ve ever seen. “You want me to tell everyone in my life that you left me for your therapist? What the hell are they going to think, hmm?”
My heart drops, knowing he cares more about his image than the relationship we’ve had for the last three years. It only validates that I’m doing what’s right.
“I don’t know,” I murmur. For once, that’s not on me to figure out.
I challenge him, taking a final step up to him—to my now ex-fiancé, to a man who was always meant to protect me, yet failed. “This is what it is, isn’t it? You were never meant to help me through what happened. I wished so many times that you’d be able to handle it, but you couldn’t do it, Lance. You couldn’t love me during one of the hardest times of my life. Even if we were struggling before, you push that aside for the person you love and you show up for them. Youlistento them, regardless of what the topic is about.” I swallow down the lump in my throat. “Our hearts were already fragile, but you were the one who took the sledgehammer and completely eviscerated mine.”
