“I thought I could solve this without bringing you into it.”
Tears rolled down my cheeks.
“You lied to me.”
“I know.”
“You let me believe you didn’t love us anymore.”
“I know.”
“You missed our daughter’s birthday.”
“I know.”
“You let me eat dinner alone.”
His voice broke.
“I know.”
I hit his chest with both hands.
“Then why?”
He didn’t defend himself.
He simply held me.
“Because every time I looked at you, I knew I could lose you.”
I cried against him.
For eleven years, I had believed the hardest part of marriage was learning to forgive the small disappointments.
I had never understood that sometimes the greatest secrets were born from fear.
Behind us, Arnold quietly called security.
Mrs. Carter was arrested before sunrise.
