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“Hen’s gone?”
I nod, clearing my throat. “Yeah.”
“So, did you guys divide your tasks? Decide who takes care of me when?” Anger multiplies in his eyes when I don’t deny it. “You’re so scared I’ll put a rope around my neck. You know what, Gemma? You’re notworthit.”
I flinch, the words unable to leave my mouth. We’re in a constant confrontational zone lately, and I despise it.
I hate our wars perhaps even more than I hated our silences.
“I will never,everforgive you for letting another man fuck you.”
“So this whole talk about therapy—”
“Oh, that? I thought about therapy, then I realized, What’s the point? They’ll ask me why I wouldn’t touch you, and the answer will always be because I couldn’tget it upwith you.”
The rhythm of my heart freezes. The answer I’ve been looking for is staring me in the face.
I’m done. I’m so done with him.
He has every right to be mad. I cheated on him and I hurt him.
But, at the same time, I wonder, What about me? What about my happiness? He ruined everything—with his attitude, his resentment—he made the choice to act like he hated me on a daily basis.
It didn’t have to be this way.
He could’ve spoken to me about it. We could’ve found ways.
I was going to make us a nice dinner. Now, I’d rather be in my room readingHarry Potter. It’s been a while, and I miss reading.
“Don’t youdareleave. I’m not done.”
I fold my arms, needing a hefty dose of strength to go to battle with him again. You know what they don’t tell you about war? Even if you win, a piece of your soul dies on the battlefield. With every battle, you’re a lessened version of yourself. You become so different, you can’t even recognize who you are anymore.
“Claire would never cheat on me!”
“Then I hope you live happily ever after! At least you can get it up with her, right?” A knot the size of a golf ball lodges in my throat.
He wheels toward me, taking my hand, his reactions giving me whiplash. “Maybe I can try. Let me try, Gemma. See if I could.”
It takes me a second to grasp what he’s implying. He wants us to have sex or be sexual together. See if he could get hard.
“I begged you for overtwo years. But you never wanted to try. This whole time I thought you couldn’t bring it up, but after seeing you jack off to porn one evening, I realized you could. You just didn’t want to withme.”
Perhaps he was embarrassed about the uncertainty of getting hard. Still, he could’ve kissed me, held my hand. He could’vetalkedto me.
I don’twantto try anymore.
I shake my head, shutting my eyes, knowing he’s going to lose it very soon.
“Gemma, it’s not as simple as you think it is.”
“I know it isn’t.”
“Don’t you want to at least try?” When I shake my head, he asks, “Why not?”
“I can’t.”
His laugh is full of spikes and thorns. “So you’ll cheat on me, but not on him?”
