Page 163 of The Sinner's Sanctuary

“Forwhat? To stay here? Ensure I’m fucking miserable?”

“You don’t have to be?—”

“I’m not hiding him,” I say sharply. “You can tell people whatever you want—you divorced me. I’m terrible. You cleaned me out. Whatever the fuck you want. I won’t contradict you because Idon’t care.” I refuse to tell her what Christian means to me—what I really want. I won’t subject his name to her scorn. But the only way this ends for me is with a clean slate.

And, ideally, Christian.

“Fine,” she says, standing. “Let’s just fucking do it. Come to my bedroom. If I tell you to stop—don’t. Maybe I just need to feel all of it again—maybe I just need to?—”

“Jesus.”

“Let me try,” she cries.

“No.”

“I can do it.” Even as she says it, she shudders—either in disgust or terror.

“No,” I say again.

“I don’t know what to do without you,” she says. “Please, love—give me a chance. Let me see if I can remember us. If you love me?—”

“I will always love you, and that is why I would never do that to you. You know that.”

“Why are you doingthis,then? Why are you saying these things?”

“I want you to have whatever you need. I’m not abandoning you. The only thing I’m leaving is this sham of a marriage that neither of us wants.”

“I’m telling you I do.”

“You just spenta monthin the Hamptons without me.”

“We talked every day.”

“Marianne, please?—”

“You promised—after what happened—you swore to me you’d never leave me again. You’d keep me safe. You’d love me.”

I don’t miss the swing below the belt, aimed directly at the guilt I bear, which still weighs heavily. But it’s a tactic. She only ever blames me when it’s convenient for her. “You’ll be safe. And I’ll always love you.”

“You can’t do this.”

I’d be less than human if I said she’s not getting to me. She’s genuinely terrified for reasons I don’t know her well enough anymore to guess. It makes it hard for me to know how to reassure her. “I’ll be here for you every step of the way. But don’t you want a fresh start? You got a glimpse of one with Avery. Listen, I know you’re hurting, and I know you don’t think you want this, but aren’t you sick of sitting at breakfast with someone who doesn’t know you? Who you don’t evenwantto know you? You’re terrified to be alone with me for more than thirty minutes, but you want to keep living with me for the rest of your life?”

“I’ve been distracted. I’m sorry—it’ll be better, now that…” She struggles to swallow. “I’ll be better.”

“What about me?” I stand up because I can’t take this sitting down anymore. “You claim to love me, that you’re willing to do anything, but I have beenmiserablewithout you.”

“It’s so easy for you, isn’t it?” she seethes, flipping into rage again like she hasn’t been listening to half of what I said. “For men. You get older and richer, and people think oh, he’s aging so well. Isn’t he so handsome? How can I get his number? Peoplewill fall all over themselves when you announce you’re single again. But what happens to me?”

I stare at this beautiful woman—my wife. This lesbian who has no interest in men, but for some reason thinks women will turn her down when they sign up in droves for the privilege of spending a few hours with her. It hits me now what it meant to her to love Avery. Avery—the gold-digging bitch who laughed it off like it was a silly crush.

Avery broke her heart.

My timing sucks.

“I’m so sorry she hurt you.”

Marianne covers her face with her hands and sobs. Her frail shoulders shake with cries that wrack her body. “I—trusted—her.”

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