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I laughed bitterly. “For years… Probably too fucking much.”
“Why say that?”
“Because remorse has a purpose.” I stared at him. “It tells you something you did doesn’t align with who you want to be.”
He pointed toward me. “So you acknowledge it. Repair what you can. Change your behavior and learn. But if ten years from now you’re still beating the shit out of yourself every morning over something you’ve never repeated, what exactly is the lesson?”
“That’s not accountability anymore.” He shook his head. “That’s punishment.”
My eyes filled. “I hurt someone.”
“I know.”
“She didn’t deserve it.”
“I know.”
“I knew he was married.”
“I know, Blair.”
“And sometimes I think people should look at me differently because of that.”
Nash stared at me. “That’s why you didn’t want to tell me.”
I looked away.
“You weren’t just scared I’d judge you. You think I should.”
Fuck. My face crumbled.
Nash moved closer. “You’ve been carrying that homewrecker shit so long you don’t know where everyone else’s judgment ends and yours starts.”
I cried harder. “I don’t want you looking at me differently.”
He nodded. “I probably will.”
My heart dropped.
“But not like that.”
“Then how?”
“I know more about you now than I knew an hour ago.” He shrugged. “Of course that changes how I see you.”
I stared at him.
“But different doesn’t automatically mean worse.”
Nash took my hand. “I’m not dating some perfect version of you and I’m definitely not dating the woman you were years ago.”
A tear rolled down my cheek. “How do you know I’m not still her?”
“Because she wouldn’t be sitting here.”
I frowned. “What?”
“You would’ve kept this shit from me. You could’ve waited until someone else told me. You could’ve given me some watered-down version where Caleb manipulated poor innocent Blair and you didn’t know anything.”
