Page 33 of Sinful Reality

“Webothhave a past. And neither of us like that about each other. But it happened. Now it’s us.”

“It’s just us,” I repeat. “Me and you.”

“And sometimes I’m going to have to talk to these people. For work.” Shakily, she pushes back and searches my eyes. “The same way you sometimes had to talk to that bitch reporter. But we don’t cheat. And we don’t lie.”

“I know?—”

“And we don’t stare at the other like they’ve done something wrong when they haven’t. I feel like a giant, lying slut, Archer. Like I’ve gone out and danced on another man’s lap and should be punished for it. But I didn’t actually do anything wrong.”

“No.” Like a child, she needs reinforcement. She needs love. Fuck, she needs acceptance. “You did nothing wrong. I’m sorry for not just talking it out from the start. We’re better than that.”

“And I’m sorry for trying to have you ejected from your own crime scene,” she cries and laughs in one. Pathetic and desperate and devastated. “All so I didn’t have to look into your eyes and feel like shit. That’s on me, and I’m so, so sorry I chose avoidance.”

“Today was hard.” She’s still freezing. Her limbs, her skin, her entire fucking being is cold to touch despite the pounding hot water. “Todaywas one for the record books in our marriage. But we’re still here, right?” I take her chin in my fingers and gently tilt her head back. “We still come home to each other. We’ll still go to bed together. Sometimes the outside world is gonna kick our asses and shatter our souls, but as long as we meet up again at the end…”

“Aubree thinks, with the re-emergence of the Body-In-The-Bag guy, that I’m incapable of separating the person I was in New York from the person I am now.” Tears mingle with water, pooling in her lashes and streaming over her cheeks. “She thinks it’s a trauma thing, and if I’m not careful, I’ll regress into who I was back then. The person I was back then used to sometimes spend an evening with Detective Gilbert.”

“Well…” I hate that my stomach drops. That my heart aches, and my lungs restrict the amount of air I can take in. “She sometimes has a knack for that sort of stuff.”Please God, don’t let her be right.“W-what do you think?”

“I think I’m a grown woman who makes her own choices, and,oops, I regressed and cheated on you,is a complete fucking cop-out.” She gulps and searches my eyes, still trembling in my arms. “I’m not my mother, Archer, and I’m very much in love with my husband. I don’t buy into the ‘well, she suffered this trauma, so she’s allowed to do whatever she wants and blame it on the past.’ If you’re worried that I’ll jump into bed with another man, then maybe we’re not as strong as we think we are.”

“I said I trust you.” I rub her leg, warming the icy skin. “I said I wouldn’t fucking like it, but you could be alone with him for however long, no matter the circumstances, and I would still trust you.”

“So let me work this case.” Fresh tears well up in her eyes, spilling onto her cheeks and mingling with shower water on her quivering lips. “Let me put Diane’s killer behind bars, and stop internalizing anger and resentment and ‘does she like him more than she likes me?’Every time my phone rings, I feel guilty. And it’s not fair that I’m made to feel like an asshole when all I’m doing is my job.”

“You’re right.” I swallow and allow her to see the change in my psyche. The way everything shifts in my heart and makes way for this new arrangement. “I’ve watched my brothers flirt with you for a year and said nothing, because I never felt threatened. But then you talk toGilbert for a matter of days, and I completely lose my mind. I was jealous and resentful and mean.”

“He’s not a threat to us.” She drags her bottom lip between her teeth and suckles the water away. “No one is a threat to us because cheating is a choice. Love,” she insists, “is a choice. And I choose to love you.”

“I choose to love you, too.” I bring her closer and set a gentle kiss on her shaking lips. “Kinda lost my way for a minute this week, huh?”

“And I did, too. I never should have withheld that information about Pax. I was insecure and worried about what you would think. If I’d been upfront from the start?—”

“I would’ve lost my shit sooner.” I rub her leg harder, faster, to bring her warmth. “You’re so fucking cold, Minnnka. You should’ve warmed up by now.”

“I hardly even feel it anymore.” Listlessly, she glances down and frowns. “I should have let you help me dig.”

“Ya think?” I shake my head and bundle her in closer. “I put your phone on the charger in the kitchen. When it rings and that asshole is on the other end, I promise I’m not gonna get pissy about it.”

“I’m sorry for being a bitch today.” Her long lashes flicker open as she sluggishly brings her gaze up. “I felt attacked and belittled, though they were my own thoughts, my own insecurities hurting me. You didn’t deserve to be treated badly for it.”

“And you didn’t deserve to feel guilty for doing your job and communicating with someone you used to know. None of this would have happened if I talked to you. I chose jealousy and pigheadedness instead.”

She chokes out a soft laugh, curling in and resting her ear on my chest. “I’m proud of us. This discussion is way less toxic than we are.”

“A licensed therapist would probably call this growth.” I tease. “Healing.Maturitymight even be muttered.”

“God.” She burrows closer and shivers violently. “I’m so friggin’ sore, Archer. It hurts to even laugh.”

“Because you’re a stubborn brat who would rather kill herself than ask for help.” I swipe the tears from her puffy cheeks and cup her neck until she looks up. “You scared me today, Minka. In more than one way. I watched you work yourself nearly to death, even knowing you’realready fighting sickness, and I had way too much time to sit back and imagine you with another man. You weren’t talking it out, and I wasn’t asking the right questions, so my imagination took over and showed me things I never want to see again. It’s like I put a fucking camera in the room with you and him, and then I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t look away.”

“You hurt your own feelings.” Fresh tears roll onto her cheeks and race toward her jawline. “You imagined things that probably never happened. You broke your own heart and tortured yourself with all thewhat-ifs, and I didn’t save you from that when I had the power to because I was caught up in my own hurt feelings, imagining that you hated me the way my father probably should have hated my mother. I was living and reliving fights in my mind, fights we hadn’t even had yet, where you said horrible things, even though you’ve never said those things in real life.”

“It’s like we’ve lived a thousand arguments today, but without the benefit of actually speaking to each other.”

“Makes us both idiots.” Shakily, she reaches up and wipes her cheek. “We scarred each other for no reason.”

“That’s usually how it goes.” She grows heavier in my lap. Lazier now that we’re okay. But she’s still cold, and she hasn’t eaten in… fuck knows. Way too long. “You need dinner and then to go to sleep.”

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