My heart starts pounding.
“I watched the footage of the two of you going into the suite. Laughing. And neither of you left until the next morning.” Her voice crumbles. “And it got me thinking.”
“Jess,” I say, my own voice cracking. “I didn’t sleep with her. I swear on our kids.”
She lets out a humorless laugh that turns into a sob. “I knew that here.” She points to her head. “But here?” She presses a hand to her chest. “This was broken.”
The tears on her face gut me.
“I’m so-” I start.
She cuts me off. “Just let me finish.” She wipes her cheeks and takes a shaky breath. “You have to understand. I thought you slept with her. I thought you had an affair and-”
“I didn’t have an affair,” I say desperately.
“Dammit, Logan,” she snaps. “I’m trying to tell you something.”
“What?” I ask.
Her voice drops to a whisper.
“I slept with someone else.”
Jess
The silence after my confession is deafening.
I thought telling him would bring relief. I imagined the weight lifting, imagined finally being free of the secret that’s been sitting in my chest for eleven months.
Instead, all I feel is dread.
Logan is frozen on the couch beside me, staring straight ahead like he didn’t actually hear the words.
Finally, he speaks.
“What?” he asks hoarsely. “What do you mean?”
I swallow hard.
Then, quieter, “Who?”
I shake my head. “That doesn’t matter, I-”
He cuts me off by standing so fast the couch shifts.
“Doesn’t matter?” he spits. “It doesn’t matter who my wife screwed?”
The words hit like a slap.
I close my eyes and cover my face with my hands, unable to look at him, unable to watch him stare at me like I’m something filthy.
“When?” he asks, his voice suddenly deadly calm.
My right leg starts bouncing uncontrollably. I keep my eyes on the floor.
“Right before we stopped therapy,” I whisper.
“Right,” he says slowly. “Therapy.” Then, harder, “I want a name.”
