Page 45 of Shame

“I think I owe you that explanation now.” My voice is soft, or small. Maybe both.I was still, and this burbled up.“Because I think our fractured thing is something I still value.”

He exhales, roughly, and thumps his head back against the wall. “Thank Christ,” he mutters.

And he hauls me into his lap.

20

Luke

I hold her against me,my sweet wife, my beautiful wild bird, as she shakes and cries softly. She’s done a big, brave thing, after another big, brave thing, and I love her so much for all of it.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur against her hair. I will forever be that. And then, because sorry isn’t enough, and not what she needs, I dig deeper. “I’m curious, too. I want you to tell me more when you’re ready.”

“Later,” she whispers.

I kiss the side of her head and hold her.

Later comes at the bottom of the bottle of champagne. We drink it while eating a charcuterie board I put in the fridge earlier.

Once she’s eaten and is quite tipsy, she stretches out on the floor and pats the space next to her.

I’m not getting past the foyer of the loft tonight, I realize that, so the floor is perfect. I lie down on my back, and after a few long beats of silence she starts talking.

“It took me months to realize I wasn’t going there for research anymore. In hindsight, it was silly how long it took me, but denial is powerful.”

My lips quirk at that. “So I’ve heard.”

“It made my art so much richer, too.” I turn my head to the side so I can watch her in profile. The softness of her cheek, the firm point of her nose. The rise and fall of her whole body as she takes a breath and holds it.

Waiting.

Stillness.

And then she smiles, which is the most beautiful thing in the world, and she starts talking again. “I was so mad,” she says softly, still smiling. That hurts, but it’s a dull hurt. Progress. “When I realized you’d played at kink with someone else. It took me a long time to realize that playing at kink and being kinky aren’t at all the same things.”

I’m not sure if I’m supposed to just listen, but I agree. When she doesn’t continue, I gruffly make an agreeing noise so she knows I’m on board.

That makes her smile more.

“It’s so hard to explain, actually.” She snaps her fingers in the air. “Oh! Maybe…” She rolls onto her side, so we’re looking at each other. “I want you to take a quiz.”

Do I look like someone who can be defined by the interns at Cosmopolitan?The asshole response slams into my head, onto my tongue, before I can turn off the negativity. But I stop it from slipping out, and that’s something. “Sure.”

But she catches my hesitation. “Never mind.”

“Grace, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s really not. Either you want to do what it takes to fix this marriage or you don’t.”

“I do.” That comes out immediately, no stopping it, and I exhale roughly. “Please. Tell me about this quiz.”

“Maybe later.” She twists away and jumps up, padding barefoot toward the kitchen. “I need a drink.”

At this rate, we’re going to be alcoholics before she likes me again. “Hey, wait.”

She scowls at me over her shoulder. “Don’t try to stop me.”

“Can I at least follow you?”

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