“Who I’m involved with now?” Lawson counters. “No, I don’t.”
“Law,” I say quietly, squeezing the man’s hand. “She’s talking about before.”
“What?” Lawson asks, brows drawn together.
I meet Laura’s gaze, some fire in her eyes that wasn’t there when she first walked in. “You’re talking about when you were still married, aren’t you? You think he knew then.”
She doesn’t say a word, but Lawson’s head whips her way.
“He didn’t,” I tell her, trying to control my anger, even as I can feel it welling fiercely inside my chest. “It was never like that, Laura. Not once. Not even close.”
“You…” Lawson’s voice cuts out before starting again. “You thought I was cheating on you?”
“Not sexually,” she says, arms crossing, as if daring Lawson to come to his own rescue.
“Emotionally?” he asks her, sounding shocked.
She shrugs, the silence heavy between us.
Lawson’s hand flexes in my own, his voice coming out like steel. “I was always faithful to you, Laura. Maybe I wasn’t the best husband. But I tried. I loved you as well as I knew how. My failing in that regard doesn’t mean my intentions weren’t pure.”
“It wasn’t a failure,” I interject, not wanting Lawson to think that way. But he’s still watching his ex.
Laura’s voice is choked, real emotion there. Hurt. “Are you really going to tell me you never thought about it? About him? All those times you asked me to—”
She cuts off, but it’s not hard to guess what she was going to say. All those times she pegged him.
I’ve officially had enough. “You need to leave, Laura. This isn’t the place for this.”
She doesn’t argue, only looks from me to Lawson one more time before heading out the door, cheeks bright red.
“Excuse me,” I say to Lawson.
“Oak.”
I lean down to kiss his forehead before jogging out the door. I catch Laura in the hallway next to a nurses’ station, thankfully empty of people. She hears me coming and stops, unshed tears in her eyes that she doesn’t bother wiping away.
“What?” she says, tone flat.
I work to steady my breathing, my anger still far too close to the surface. Despite my best efforts, it still bleeds into my voice. “How long did you suspect something?”
She pulls in a breath, looking off to the side as she shrugs. “I don’t know. Years? It was obvious, Oakley, once I could accept the signs. I mean, what straight or even bi man wouldn’t enjoy fucking his wife?”
My inhale is a shuddering thing. I don’t bother telling Laura it’s so much more complicated than that. That notall men, regardless of who they’re interested in, crave sex. That people can be allosexual or ace or any number of varying things. That just because a man enjoys being fucked, that doesn’t automatically make him queer.
But I don’t say any of that. Like I told Laura, this isn’t the place.
There’s one thing, however, that I can’t let slide. It’s been boiling inside of me from the moment Laura said shesuspected.
I keep my voice low, even as every part of me wants to rage. “The moment you figured it out, you should have let him go.”
Laura pulls in a short breath, even as she meets my gaze.
“But you didn’t do that, did you?” I ask, no more than a whisper. “You kept that man by your side because you knew he’d stay.”
“Tell me,” she says, just as quiet. “How was I supposed to let go of the man I loved?”
“Selflessly,” I bite out, turning away.
