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“How do you think we can work this out?” I ask, but I’m not actually waiting for him to answer me because I know, deep in my heart, I’ll never, ever forgive him. “Should we work this out, and you keep fucking Sarah?” I ask. “Like, how would it work?”
“If you want me to stop seeing her”—he exhales deeply—“then I will do that.”
I can’t help but fucking laugh. “That is so kind of you,” I say sarcastically, “but you can totally keep fucking her until your dick falls off. I’ll be there tomorrow between ten and one, and I don’t want you there. You can go and sit with your girlfriend while you tell her husband you might be the kids’ father.”
“It’s not like that,” he retorts. “I don’t want kids with her. I want kids with you. I want to marry you.”
“Do you know how sick and disgusting that is?”
“With Sarah, it was just fucking.” He tries to plead his case.
“How many times?” I ask, and I can feel everyone’s eyes in the room go big. “On average, how many times a week would you fuck her?”
“I don’t know,” he huffs. “Does it matter?”
“It does to me.” I don’t even know why I’m asking him this, but I suddenly need to know how much of my life was a lie.
“Four, maybe seven, times a week,” he shares, and I gasp. Trying to see how he could fuck her seven times a week and maybe get it up only a couple of times for me, but now it all makes sense. “They were just for relief.”
“Where?” I don’t want to hear his stupid excuses. “Where did you fuck her? Was it at our house? Her house?”
“Zara,” he says my name, and I cringe.
“Where?” I hiss out.
“A bit of both, really,” he finally gives in. “Our house, her house, the office, when we would go away.”
“Jesus, no wonder you wouldn’t be in the mood when you were with me.” I shake my head. “Red flag number one.” I laugh. “Am I right?”
“Zara, I love you.”
“Good, I’m glad,” I tell him. “Now, tomorrow between ten and one.”
“We need to talk.”
“We just did,” I inform him. “There really isn’t anything else left to say. I think we said it all.”
“The wedding,” he finally says. “I want to marry you.”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” I ask. “Like, seriously, did your dick steal all your brain cells? You don’t think I’d actually marry you after all of this.”
“We can go to therapy.”
“I mean, you should go to therapy,” I agree with him.
“Where are you going to stay?” he asks like he’s suddenly worried about me.
“I can tell you where I’m not going to stay, and that is at our house.” Even saying the words makes my skin crawl. “I never, ever want to step foot in that place again.” I look around. “But for now, I’ll be there tomorrow. Then I guess we need to put the house on the market unless you want to buy me out so you can use it to keep fucking Sarah?” I don’t even give him a chance to say anything. “Goodbye, Daniel.”
4
ZARA
I toss the phone in the chair I was sitting in before turning back and grabbing the glass from Gabriella and taking a sip. “I need a shower,” I admit to the room, then look over at Zoey, who nods, “and some clothes.”
“I’ll get you something,” Zoey says, grabbing my hand. “Are you hungry?”
“I’ll order some food,” Ryleigh offers, pulling up her phone.
