quickly and then debate on how to tell her I won’t be responding anymore to her. That it’s not fair to my wife and now that I’ve left the company, there’s no reason to have any type of relationship with her.
What about what happened? she asks and I stare at the text on my phone as the lights in my car dim, signaling me to leave. She follows up the question with another that makes my stomach churn. He knows about what happened and you know he won’t let it go. He’ll hang this over your head until he gets what he wants.
My brow knits as I read the message. I don’t give a shit what he knows or what he wants. For a moment I think maybe she’s messaging the wrong person. I settle on my response.
I have nothing to give him.
He knows about us, Evan.
I stare at the text message, letting it sink in.
You told him? I ask her, my gaze shifting from the phone to the lit townhouse building off the busy city street. The lights are on in her office and the living room. So close. She’s so close.
My phone vibrates in my hand and I look back down to see her response. He’s known for years.
My hand balls into a white-knuckled fist as I realize he’s been playing me. He’s never let on that he knew I fucked his wife.
My first instinct is to blame Sam. You didn’t tell me you told him, I text and then hate myself for it. I didn’t know she was married; we were both high and I wanted any excuse to end things with Kat.
I didn’t think he cared.
So now what? I ask her and try to swallow the ball of heat rising in my throat. It doesn’t change anything.
I don’t see him letting this go. Not when he can get back at you.
A frustrated groan travels up my throat.
Fuck him. He can do what he wants, but I’m not his bitch.
My phone immediately vibrates as I slip it into my pocket, and I immediately take it out. Not to read her response, only to shut it off, silencing it and ignoring all the problems that wait for me.
I swallow thickly and step out into the cool night, the city traffic surrounding me as I shut the car door and leave it all behind.
Everything is crumbling around me, but the only thing I care about is losing Kat. I don’t see how I can hold on to her when I don’t have a plan and I’ve lost control.
She needs a better man, and I swear I can be one. We just need to start over and get away from this shit.
I run my hand down my face. Hitting the lock, the car beeps and the bright headlights flash in the dark of the night. The sounds of the city streets are loud as I walk up the sidewalk, past men and women who carry on with their busy lives and don’t have a clue how mine is being ripped apart.
The keys jingle in my hand as I make my way home. Every second I’m trying to think of the best way to come clean about everything to Kat. She deserves to know, even if she hates me once she finds out. I have to tell her first.
A heavy breath leaves me as I turn the lock and walk into the building, running a hand over my hair and trying to block the image of her disappointment from my mind.
I can see how her green eyes will widen, how her lips will part and how she’ll think I’m lying at first. I can see how she’ll look at me, how she’ll question who I am and why or if, she loves me.
My footsteps are heavy as I grip the iron railing and head to the top of the stairwell, to our home we’ve built together, the one she’s kicked me out of. My gut feels heavy, churning with a sickness that rises to my chest as I hear her voice and recall the memory of her telling me to get out. My fingers wrap tighter around the rail, keeping me upright as I force myself to continue. I need to confess and come clean. But I don’t think she’ll love me anymore once she learns the whole truth.
That’s the part that hurts the most. I barely have a grip on the railing as I take the last step and imagine