She pushed him back until he was sitting on the edge of the mattress, stepping into his space and straddling his lap. Simon closed his eyes, his head falling back with a ragged exhale as she guided him, the breath leaving his lungs in a rush as she sank down and took all of him.
He was completely lost to it now. The heat and the sheer urgency of the physical sensation obliterated the mounting dread in his mind. He let her take control, the desperate adrenaline drowning out the voice in his head that sounded exactly like his wife.
Is this what you need, Si? Emily had whispered against his jaw, her breath hot against his skin as the pace shifted, the friction growing sharper and more urgent. Do you like it like this?
Yes, he had ground out, his hands gripping her hips tightly, holding her flush against him. He was drowning, and the reckless pleasure was the only thing in the room.
Do you want it faster? she asked, a breathless, triumphant edge to her voice as she moved against him, perfectly attuned to his reaction.
Yes, Simon answered, the word torn from his throat. The guilt was completely, temporarily eclipsed by the raw, desperate high of the moment. God, yes. It's so good. Just... don't stop. Please.
He buried his face in her neck, his eyes squeezed shut as he completely surrendered to the worst decision he would ever make, letting the intoxicating darkness of the hotel room swallow him whole.
"And then I woke up," Simon choked out in the therapy room, pulling himself out of the horrific memory, the tearsfalling freely down his face now as he looked at Audrey. "When I opened my eyes, the room was bathed in this flat, gray light. And the memory of what I had just done crashed into me."
Audrey was completely still, her chest rising and falling in shallow, painful increments.
"I scrambled for my clothes," Simon wept, the pathetic reality of his cowardice laid entirely bare. "I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. It was 6:14 AM. And there was a text message from you, sitting right there on the screen."
Audrey closed her eyes, the tears squeezing past her lashes. She remembered sending it. She remembered turning off the kitchen lights and walking up the stairs alone.
"You said... Don't work too late. Left some dinner in the fridge for you. Love you," Simon recited, his voice breaking completely. "It wasn't angry. It wasn't demanding. It was just you, taking care of me while I was blocks away, actively destroying our family. I stood in the empty hotel hallway, and I just cried. Because I knew I had traded my marriage, my daughter's intact home, and the woman I loved... just because I was tired of being the responsible one."
The silence that followed was agonizing.
Audrey stared at him, the full, devastating picture finally painted in front of her. It was so incredibly mundane, and so incredibly selfish. He hadn't fallen out of love with her. He had just wanted an escape, and he had willingly burned their life down to get it.
The pain in her chest was so intense she could hardly breathe.
"I don't know if I can keep doing this, Simon," Audrey finally whispered, her voice cracking as she wiped her wet cheeks. The sheer exhaustion of carrying the grief weighed her down into the leather chair. "I don't know if I can keep showingup here for the remaining weeks... if it is always going to hurt like this."
Simon looked at her, his heart shattering completely at the sound of her defeat. He didn't argue. He just nodded, accepting the terrifying reality that his truth might have finally destroyed her.
Chapter 31
Audrey
The morning after the therapy session felt like waking up from a car crash.
Audrey sat at her kitchen island, staring blankly at an untouched cup of tea. Her entire body ached with a heavy, hollow exhaustion. Hearing the truth—the pathetic, mundane reality of the hotel room—had stripped away the last of her defenses. She didn't feel angry today. She just felt entirely depleted.
Miranda walked through the back door, carrying a brown paper bag from the local bakery. She took one look at Audrey’s pale face and set the bag down on the marble counter with a soft sigh.
"It was that bad?" Miranda asked quietly, pulling out the stool next to her.
"I don't know if I can do it anymore, Miri," Audrey whispered, her voice cracking as she traced the rim of her mug. "I thought hearing the whole truth would set me free. But hearing him say how easy it was to just throw us away... it broke something else inside of me. I don't know if I have the strengthto sit in that room for another month. I just want to walk away and make the hurting stop."
Miranda reached over and covered Audrey's cold hand with her own. She didn't offer advice. She didn't tell her to stay or to leave. She just looked at her sister with fierce, protective determination.
"You are emotionally hungover," Miranda declared, standing up and pulling Audrey’s tea away. "You have spent two months carrying the weight of the world, and yesterday you let it crush you. You are done thinking for the day. Go take a shower. Put on that black dress I bought you for your birthday."
Audrey blinked, confused. "What? Why?"
"Because you need to get out of your own head," Miranda insisted, crossing her arms. "Lily is at her grandparents' house until tomorrow. We are going out. We are going to drink too much, we are going to listen to loud music, and you are not going to think about Simon, or therapy, or the rest of your life for the next six hours. Go."
By 10:00 PM, the heavy, suffocating grief had been successfully drowned in tequila.
The downtown lounge was crowded, pulsing with a deep, rhythmic bass and bathed in dim neon light. For the first two hours, Audrey actually let go. She was on the packed dance floor with Miranda and three of their oldest friends, the music so loud it vibrated through the soles of her heels. They took shots at the bar, laughed until their sides ached, and spun under the flashing lights.
