I don’t even know what I was thinking, dancing with that guy. It just felt so good to let go, to feel wanted…
As a lump forms in my throat, I try to yell even harder at Rhys to clear it away, desperate not to break down.
I know what he thinks of me. I’m just a human, and he can’t ever respect me. I deserve to feel good!
Suddenly, I notice Rhys has stopped yelling, and all the anger has gone out of his face. It shocks me so much, my mind goes completely blank.
“What did you just say?” he asks, voice softer.
“That I deserve to feel good,” I say, wiping my cheek in anticipation of the tears I’m determined not to shed.
“No, after that.”
“What?” I mutter, confused. I search my mind for things to say, wishing I had the red-hot anger of a few minutes ago to fill my mind with choice words I can use against him.
“Did you just say that it’s been years since you felt like that?” he asks.
I want to get angry and yell at him again, but the soft tone of his voice stops me.
“Yes,” I say, very softly. “Well, it’s been years since anyone flirted with me… or since I let anyone touch me.” I laugh a little at the irony. “It might just be that I haven’t been out in public for that long,” I add, shaking my head.
Rhys takes a step towards me, but he doesn’t try to touch me. He just leans closer so he can look into my eyes.
“Are you saying you haven’t slept with anyone since the night we spent together?”
A faint tingle of anxiety prickles across my skin, as if I’ve wandered into a minefield unawares and am about to get completely blown to hell if I don’t watch my step.
“Yes,” I answer, knowing where this line of questioning could go and trying not to feed his ego.
“But why?” he asks, and the genuine curiosity in his voice disarms me.
“I’ve spent every last minute with Cassie,” I say, telling the truth. “I had to work hard to make sure I could give her everything she needed, and every spare moment belonged to her. I wouldn’t trade a second of it, I love her so much—but I certainly didn’t have time to go out on Friday nights to get laid.”
Rhys comes a little closer, and his face is so open and genuine, I feel another wall coming down inside me.
“I didn’t realize,” he says. “I mean, obviously you wouldn’t have much time to go out partying when you were looking after a baby, but you never had someone special, or a night out with your friends?”
“No,” I answer, my voice coming out hard.
It’s true, I closed myself off, and a big part of the reason was him, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Look, it’s none of your business,” I say, backing up. “What I’ve done over the last few years has nothing to do with you.”
“It’s my business now,” he says, following me. “We’re married, Sadie!”
“Are we?” I scoff. “This has to be the worst sham marriage in history.”
“You know that isn’t true,” he says, his tone lighter, but I refuse to let him de-escalate the conversation.
“I don’t know what you’re playing at here,” I say. “But you need to get a grip.”
“I’m trying to,” he says, and the playful note in his voice sends sensations singing through me I don’t want to acknowledge.
I turn my back on him, walking quickly into the parking lot, then I realize I got a lift here with the girls, and Rhys is my only way home.
Where are you going, genius? You going to walk home?
I will if I have to!
