Page 23 of Faithless

His jaw ticks, and his fingers cut into my arms. “You didn’t give a fuck about any of it. You never loved me.” His mouth closes, and he inhales a shaky breath through his nose.

I give him a bland smile. “I saw you at Trader Joe’s.”

His brow furrows. He has no idea what I’m talking about.

“Two weeks ago.”

His eyes grow wide before averting from mine.

Now he gets it.

“You were standing at the front of the line just as I stepped in at the end of it. You were in your workout clothes, and she was wearing a yellow sundress.”

He shuts his eyes.

“She looked so young and fresh and pretty, and you seemed so easy together. She rubbed your back while you entered your pin number on the card machine—”

“I…” He inhales a shaky breath. “I hardly even knew her. We just fucked once. Earlier that day. She was clingy. I didn’t even want her there with me. You should feel sorry for her.”

I laugh softly. “I probably would have felt sorry for her if my heart hadn’t been breaking.”

He winces.

My teeth begin to chatter. The chill that overcame me that day never left, but it isn’t always this potent. “You were buying my almond milk.”

His jaw quivers, and he shuts his eyes once again.

“I had just texted you a half hour before. You said you weren’t sure if you’d make it before they closed, because you were driving in from Camarillo.”

He grunts. “What does it matter? I fucked another woman. Who cares about a little white lie?”

“I care. It broke my heart.” Warmth streams down my cheeks and I realize that I’m crying. “This is just part of who you are now. A liar. A cheater. Someone who can break his wife’s heart without even thinking twice about it.”

His eyes pop open and settle on my face. “That’s not true.” His shaky voice is barely above a whisper. “I think of nothing but your heart. I’ve thought of nothing but your heart for the last twenty-three years. I’ve coveted it. And when I realized I couldn’t have it, I raged against it. I wished I could break it, but knew I didn’t have the power.”

“What a silly man you are.”

He jerks back as if I hit him. I don’t think he’s accustomed to being called silly.

“You’ve had my heart for twenty-three years. It took me losing yours for me to realize it, but I paid heavily, and now I don’t have any heart left. You took it from me, piece by piece. It’s gone now.”

His wild eyes dart over my face. He’s looking at me like he’s never seen me before.

“I’m divorcing you,” I say. “You can’t stop me. No marriage counseling. This is over.”

He grimaces, and his face contorts and crumples inward.

What is going on?

He covers his face with his hands. The sound of his crying is so deep and low, I almost don’t hear it, but there’s no ignoring the rapid shaking of his shoulders. He sobs again and again. I find I can only stare at him.

“Oh God, Whitney, no.”

He sounds almost like a little boy.

“Don’t do this. I’m begging you.” The words are broken and stuttered. “No, no, no. You can’t… I won’t…”

A chill runs down my spine. I step away from him, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

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