Page 47 of Cursing My Cheating Husband

As they fluttered toward the flames, I snapped my fingers again, magically extinguishing the fire. The tickets landed intact on cool ash.

“Well, you took the fun out of that one,” I said with a put-upon sigh.

Maddox knelt to pick up the tickets. “Thank you, Callie.”

I flinched at the genuine appreciation in his tone. I didn’t enjoy giving him cause to feel anything positive. “Don’t thank me yet. We’ll flush them down the toilet another night.”

He didn’t stand, remaining on his knees in front of me, his hands still clutching those saved ticket stubs.

“I see why you didn’t want to tell me about how you felt when you found out about Gwen and the others. I understand it must hurt too much to talk about.” He swallowed. “Maybe… maybe it would be easier for you to share with magic instead of talking?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The magic you used to experience my memory of our third date… does that work both ways?”

I pulled back. “It does.”

“So don’t put it into words.” He straightened his shoulders, steeling himself. “Can you just put me in your memory? Can I experience that night directly like you did?”

I studied his face. This could be another manipulation, but something in his eyes looked genuine.

Of course, one thing I knew for sure was that I couldn’t trust my conclusions here. He looked as genuine now as he had all those other times he had lied to me over the years. I hated this feeling, having my faith in my own instincts ripped away by his lies.

But I couldn’t deny that his idea appealed to me. To make him feel, directly and viscerally, the exact pain he’d caused, without having to explain a single thing? To have him experience the full weight of his betrayal, without having to do the emotional work of putting it into words and talking it out?

“All right. Let’s do it,” I said, surprising myself. I leaned forward, my hand already beginning to glow with magical energy. “Just remember, you asked for this.”

CHAPTER 20

MADDOX

Callie’s ominous warning rang through my head as she placed her hands on my temples. I took a deep breath and straightened my back, bracing myself. I was about to ask what this would feel like…

When I was suddenly somewhere else entirely. I was in the bedroom, feeling the deeply unpleasant sensation of suddenly being incredibly small. The weight distribution, the center of gravity shifted impossibly low, the way my—her—arms hung light and narrow at my sides… everything felt wrong.

Was this what it always felt like to be in Callie’s body? My instinct was to straighten to my full height, to take up space the way I always had, but this body simply didn’t have that presence. It was like being compressed. I never realized how much I relied on the authority granted by my imposing height and broad shoulders until this moment, when it was suddenly gone. The vulnerability of it made my skin crawl.

Experiencing these moments through Callie’s perception was far more overwhelming than I was prepared for.

It was the day she would discover my cheating, but still early in the evening. She stood in front of our full-length mirror in her underwear, holding up the cheerleader outfit. As I looked through her eyes at her own reflection, what I saw made me sick to my stomach.

This couldn’t be Callie. The woman in the mirror looked so defeated and drained. Her skin was sallow, and dark circles hung under her dull eyes. Callie had a gorgeous figure, but in this reflection she looked so misshapen it could have been a funhouse mirror. Every flaw was magnified tenfold. She looked like someone in the advanced stages of a horrible disease.

Maybe this will work, her thoughts echoed through my consciousness. If I can look good in this, he’ll want me again.

She pulled on the cheerleader skirt, and I felt her suck in her stomach, felt her distaste for how it looked as she struggled to adjust it to land just right.

Is this stupid? Do I look ridiculous? she worried. Do I look like I’m pretending to be twenty-one again? Is he going to just laugh at me?

The horror of it crashed over me. This was what I’d done to her. My neglect, my lack of attention, my constant rejection… all of it had broken her down until she couldn’t even see herself anymore. My stunning, vibrant wife had been reduced in her own mind to this sad, unappealing ghoul.

Just try harder, she told herself. I just need to try harder. And be better for him. Be someone he wants so badly that he’ll rip this outfit off of me.

The insecurity radiating through her made me want to scream. This was my fault. I had put all this doubt and self-hatred there.

The memory shifted as we jumped forward a few hours. She was now dressed. In her reflection, she looked much better than she had earlier, but still much worse than I’d ever seen her look through my own eyes.

The yawning insecurity I’d felt within her moments ago had been forcibly suppressed, and in its place was the most desperate, yearning, painful hope. Her thoughts as she tried to reassure herself of my love were even more agonizing to hear.