He blows out a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ivy.” He paces the small room. “We have to talk. I didn’t want you to find out like this.” Oh, God. He’s not even denying it.
I stand up and wobble on my legs for a second before pushing past him into the bedroom. The bathroom is suddenly a way too personal space to be sharing with him. I sit on the edge of the bed, stunned that he hasn’t denied anything. Why isn’t he denying it? This is the part where I find out it was some kind of misunderstanding.
“Paul, what’s going on?” More tears stream down my face. “Please tell me I’m hallucinating or something, or that this is some kind of misunderstanding.”
He sits on the bed about three feet away from me. “Ivy, I’m so sorry—“
“You’re sleeping with another woman? You love her?” I demand, crying harder.
He rubs his forehead. “I don’t think we should talk about this when you just got sick.”
“I’m sick because of this.”
He looks at me and then quickly looks down at the floor like he can’t stand to see the sight of me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out this way,” he says again, his voice low.
My stomach pitches, and new tears spill from my eyes.
“Did you want me to find out at all? Or were you just going to keep seeing her behind my back?”
Still staring at the floor, he shakes his head. “I really don’t know.”
“So it’s true?” My body trembles uncontrollably as reality starts to edge back in.
The man I’ve loved since high school looks me in the eyes and nods his head. “Yes, I’ve been having an affair.”
My heart and stomach both sink, and then rage boils up inside me.
“Are you kidding me?” I hiss, trying not to yell. “I’ve been having a physical relationship with the detachable showerhead for a year now while you’ve been with another woman?” All this time, I assumed that his lack of sexual interest in me was due to him working too hard and dealing with too much stress. I never once even considered he was having an affair.
“Please don’t yell. I don’t want the kids to hear this.” He glances toward the hallway. “I didn’t plan any of this. You know how I feel about infidelity. I hate it . . . but it just happened.”
I let out a half-hysterical laugh. “Really? How exactly did it just happen, Paul? Who is she?”
“The hygienist at the dentist office,” he admits quietly, not meeting my eyes.
I cannot even fathom how anyone could be attracted to someone while they are scraping plaque and other ickiness from their gum line. The visual of it almost makes me laugh.
“I can’t believe this. The hygienist?” Despite the fact that she’s had her fingers in his mouth, as well as mine and my children’s, I have to admit she’s young, thin, gorgeous, and bubbly. She’s the kind of woman that all men want and all women hate but secretly want to be.