Eli says. “He was well-spoken and confident. I was skeptical at first, but by the time we left, he’d convinced me he knew what he was doing. I know how you feel, but I think if we stick with it, Dr. Colson could definitely help us out. Might be just what we need.”
I glare at Eli, because I know what he really wants is for me to tell him I’m willing to stick with him through the therapy, because if I do that, it’s agreeing to us staying together. I’m not sure I want to give Eli any confidence when it comes to that. I’d rather leave him on the edge of his seat until the very last second. Nonetheless, I haven’t made a decision about sticking with Dr. Colson one way or another.
“Dr. Colson was fine,” I agree. “It’s me who’s not.”
“I know,” Eli says in an apologetic tone, which makes me hot with annoyance. “I’m sorry—”
“I know you're sorry,” I interject. I’m so tired of hearing it at this point, it’s lost all meaning to me. “You don't have to keep saying it, Eli.”
“I feel like I do.”
“Why?”
“Because you make me feel like I haven’t said it at all,” Eli snips, his words suddenly coming out with sharper edges. “You make me feel like all of this happened, and I just tried to move right past it without acknowledging that I messed up.”
“Your biggest concern right now is how I’ve made you feel?” I bark with a furrowed brow.
“That’s not what I’m saying,” Eli tries to backtrack, but I can tell from the look on his face he’s growing upset. “You're just so ready to jump down my throat for every little thing. As soon as the words escape my mouth, you're ready to tie them up and beat them to death.”
“No, Eli, I’m ready to beat you to death. I don't know how you expect me to feel after what you did.”
“And I don't know how many times I’m supposed to say I’m sorry before you realize I actually am sorry.”
“I do believe you're sorry,” I fire back. “I believe you're sorry for getting caught, the same way everybody else who cheats is sorry for getting caught.”
“You don't think I’m sorry for the mistake I made?” Eli’s voice climbs in volume, and somehow he’s managed to make himself upset at me over this. The fucking audacity.
“No, Eli!” I bark. “If you were, you would’ve told me about your fucking mistake the day you came home, instead of fucking me as if you hadn’t fucked her. If you were sorry, I wouldn’t have found out through a dumb ass text message from the idiot you stuck your cock in.”
“Goddamn it! I’m tired of this,” Eli blurts out. He throws his hands over his face, and for the first time since I met him, he looks defeated. “I’m so tired of fighting with you, Demi. It’s been six months. How long are you going to punish me? Why doesn't it matter how apologetic I am? I just want this to be over. I just want us to go back to normal. I just miss you.”
I pause to look at my husband. His hands slide down, revealing the tears in his eyes, and the sight of him makes me want to reach out and slap him. Somehow, in a move that was as quick as a bolt of lightning striking a tree, Eli has made himself out to be the victim. He wants me to feel bad for him.
Eli keeps his eyes trained on me as I turn around and lift my wine glass off the end table. I take a small sip before standing up and looking down on him, and I hope with everything in me that the rage I feel is visible on my face. I hope it’s pouring out of my eyes like paint. I wish he could feel how much pain and fury he has filled me with. Everything in me wants him to feel how he has made me feel, and the only thing I can think as I look down upon him is that this isn't fair.
“You're pathetic,” I say in an angry whisper. Eli pulls his head up to look at me, a shocked expression on his face. “You fucked someone else. You fucked her shortly after getting off the phone with me, then you came home and had sex with me only a few days later. You broke my heart into