I needed you to feel even for just a few hours the kind of fear that makes you question everything you thought you knew. She stood up. You're insane. You sent me to a clinic. Made me think I'd been exposed to some some disease.
Made me terrified that I'd she stopped abruptly realizing what she'd almost said. I leaned forward. That you'd what, Rachel? Caught something from Marcus. Because that's interesting phrasing.
Why would you assume you'd caught something from Marcus specifically, unless you were in a position to catch something from him? Unless you'd been close enough, intimate enough for that to be a concern. The color that had returned to her face drained away again. We didn't. I haven't.
Don't. I held up a hand. Please don't insult both of us by lying right now. We're past that. We're so far past that.
She sank back onto the couch and I watched her realize that this conversation wasn't going the way she'd expected. That she'd walked into something she couldn't charm or explain or rationalize her way out of. "How long have you known? " she whispered. "Which part? That you and Marcus have been texting each other at midnight for 6 months?
That you've been deleting messages from your phone but not from our cloud backup? That the work retreat was actually a couple's package at the Azure Bay Resort that he booked using his personal credit card? " I paused. Or that you've been lying to my face every single day, asking me about my day, kissing me good night, making plans for our anniversary while you were planning something entirely different with someone else. " Each question landed like a stone in still water, sending ripples across her face. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again. Finally, I can explain.
I don't want you to explain. I stood up, walked to the window, watched rain run down the glass. Explanations are for misunderstandings. This wasn't a misunderstanding, Rachel. This was a choice.
Dozens of choices, actually. Every text, every deleted message, every lie about working late or going to the gym or needing space. Every single one was a choice you made to betray me. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Her voice was small, breaking.
It just it evolved. We were friends. We worked together every day. And he understood things about me that you that I what I turned from the window that I didn't understand, that I failed to provide. Go ahead, Rachel.
Tell me how this is somehow my fault. That's not what I meant then. What did you mean? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you got bored or restless or whatever it is people get when they decide that their marriage vows were more like marriage suggestions. And instead of talking to me, instead of fighting for us, you just I gestured vaguely toward her, toward the space where our marriage used to be, you just found someone easier.