He doesn’t respond, only watches me with an intent frown, like he’s trying to read my thoughts, searching for cracks that might expose a lie. But I give him nothing. I keep my focus on the onion beneath my knife, on the steady rhythm of the blade, and hope that eventually he’ll give up and leave me the hell alone.
After a few minutes, he walks up behind me. Then, in a move I’m completely unprepared for, he grips my waist and spins me around. The knife slips from my fingers, clattering loudly against the chopping board, before he pulls me flushagainst him and crashes his mouth onto mine, hard enough to knock the breath straight from my lungs.
“There. That’s much better.”
His lips curl into a smug smirk, far too self-satisfied, I’m almost tempted to smack it right off his face. Not a second later, he’s gone, disappearing before I can even form a response.
I let him have this moment. Just this once. Because come tomorrow, I’ll make sure he never gets another like it again. Not even if it ends with him on his knees, begging and weeping for one last chance.
Chapter 13
Hope
My leg bounces restlessly beneath the dining table as I wait for Adrian to return from dropping Zac at his friend’s house. He’s been gone for thirty-five minutes, long enough that every tick of the clock on the wall seems to grow louder, heavier, counting down to the inevitable.
The moment he steps through the front door, everything will change. Our family. Our lives. Our future. All of it irrevocably altered by the selfish choices he made and dragged into our world. He won’t see it coming, and that’s the only thing that brings me any satisfaction. All of his carefully constructed lies are about to unravel, and he’s going to find out real soon just how serious things are about to get.
I anxiously flick through the file one last time, checking that everything is still there. I’ve been through it more times than I can count, yet the weight of it never lessens. Kaden did a thorough job—so meticulous, so damning, that there’s no room left for doubt, or space for Adrian to deny a singlething. I’m almost curious to hear what excuse he’ll attempt to spin, even with the evidence of his betrayal staring him straight in the face.
He has never been one to take accountability or apologise first. It’s one of the few traits of his that has never sat well with me, something I chose to overlook each time we argued, convincing myself it was simply part of Adrian’s arrogant and stubborn nature. But he won’t get away with it this time. This time, I expect him to plead, maybe even beg for mercy—mercy that I’ll never give.
He walks through the door five minutes later, and my heart immediately begins to pound against my ribs. He doesn’t notice me seated at the dining table right away, too focused on whatever’s on his phone.
Part of me wonders how I ever missed the signs. I can’t even remember if he was on his phone more than usual, or if he’d started slipping in and out of the house with flimsy excuses to run errands. Maybe I was blind. Maybe I was naïve. Or maybe my husband was simply very good at hiding things.
I don’t have time to dwell on it because when he finally looks upand our eyes lock. He freezes—just for a second, before a tentative smile pulls at his lips.
“Hey, baby. I wasn’t expecting to see you up and already dressed this early on a Sunday morning.”
“Well, I did promise you a surprise. Couldn’t keep you waiting now, could I?”
He lets out a low chuckle. “That’s right. I’m looking forward to this so-called surprise youhave for me.”
How easy it would be to wipe that irritating grin off his face right now. The temptation is almost unbearable, but I won’t. Not when I’m determined to give him one last chance to confess.
“Before we get started, I’m just curious—at any point in our marriage, did you ever feel unsatisfied with our sex life, or wish for something more?”
He frowns. “What a random question… Why are you asking?”
“As I said, I’m just curious. I know we’re not always intimate, and I admit I can be a little… unenthusiastic at times. I just want to know if it’s ever been an issue for you.”
“Our marriage is more than just sex, babe. You know that. I mean, sure, it would be nice to make love more than a few times a month, but what we have is enough for me.”
“So you’d tell me if you wanted more? You wouldn’t be… say… tempted to get it from someone else?”
“What?! How could you even think of something like that?!”
“I just want to know if you’d always be honest with me about it?”
His frown deepens. “Hope, what the hell is this?”
“It’s me asking questions I’ve been curious about.”
“I can see that, but I’m just confused. What has brought this on?”
It’s probably useless at this point to get him to come clean. He’s lied to me for so long, I have no doubt he’d take his secrets to the grave if he could. Good thing, though, I’ve already uncovered them thanks to a very considerate stranger.
He’s had his chance to tell the truth, and he blew it. I see it clearly now: he’d rather live a lie than be an honest, decent man. And I’m done. I want out. To hell with him.
