Page 99 of The Rebound Plan

“You don’t understand.”

“Help me understand.”

“I feel like I’ve betrayed my wedding vows. That’s different. I let myself down.”

“He invited me to join in that night. That wasn’t you.”

“I’m not talking about the threesome. I mean the rest of it. At some point this summer, I lost my loyalty to my husband.” I lick my lips. “I wanted them to mean something. My wedding vows. If they couldn’t mean fidelity from him, they could at least mean loyalty from me. And in exchange for my loyalty, I got something in return. Safety and security.”

To my own ears, it sounds like the worst kind of denial. I can’t imagine how it sounds to Russ.

“Don’t judge me,” I say

“I’m not,” he says, and his voice is warmer than I deserve.

“Before you, I was faithful to him. Fully.”

“We didn’t do anything. You haven’t betrayed him.”

“If only that meant something.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“God damn it.” He growls in sudden frustration. “Don’t … what is the point of sharing half of anything with me? Be messy. I can handle it.”

“Maybe I can’t!”

“Then let me handle it for you.” He ducks his head, grabbing my gaze again. “If I can’t be your lover right now, at least let me be your friend.”

I have enough friends, I want to snap. And not nearly enough lovers.

But that’s not really the truth, either.

And if there’s something I have learned from my friends this summer, it’s that there is more strength than I ever realized in being truly, fully honest. For them, it’s with their husbands. For me…I need to start with myself. And then the man I wish I could take as a lover is a good next step.

“You want to know what it means? It means if you would cross that line with me, I would be your lover. I would cheat on him, because he cheats on me all the time. You are the only reason I have stayed faithful to him this time. You are more noble and respectful of this marriage than either of the two people inside it.”

I shudder as his hands glide up my sides, and over my shoulders. He cups my face, holding my gaze, as he brushes his thumb over my parted lips.

His gentle touch against my mouth is more intimate than any kiss could ever be.

I suck in an aching gasp.

Pain lances his expression, but his voice is light. “Then it’s a good thing I’ve already made it clear that married women aren’t my type.”

“And if I weren't married?”

He looks at my mouth, and fire licks up my spine. “Then this would be a very different conversation.”

I square my shoulders. “I’ve put things in motion with another lawyer. I’m not a pushover.”

“I don’t think you are. I think your life is more complicated than anyone could ever imagine, and I wish it didn’t scare you so much to let me in a little.”

“As a friend.”

“Yes. As a friend.” But he says it in a way that promises he wants more than that.

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