Chapter 15
Adam Bennett came home from a twenty-day “business trip” carrying pink. Chapter 1: PART 1: The Roses Were Too Late. The House Had Already Learned to Live Without Him.
Chapter 4: PART 4: His Apology Could Explain His Regret. It Could Not Give Marina Back the Nights She Survived Without Him.
Three weeks later, Marina signed a six-month lease on a two-bedroom apartment.
Adam heard about it from her.
That mattered.
She was not trying to punish him with surprises.
They sat at a small café near Mellon Park while Carol watched Nell.
It was the first time Marina had left the baby for more than an hour.
She kept checking her phone anyway.
“I signed yesterday,” she said.
Adam looked at the coffee between his hands.
“You’re really doing it.”
“Yes.”
“Why six months?”
“Because I’m not trying to make permanent decisions while I’m sleep deprived and healing.”
Hope rose before he could stop it.
Marina noticed.
“Don’t.”
His face tightened.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
He looked down.
“I stopped seeing Savannah.”
Marina’s expression barely changed.
“I assumed you would.”
“I told her the affair was over.”
“Okay.”
“She was angry.”
Marina took a sip of tea.
“I don’t need updates.”
“I’m not trying to make you jealous.”
“I know.”
“I’m trying to be transparent.”
“Then be transparent about things that affect me or Nell.”
Adam nodded.
He had started counseling two weeks earlier.
His therapist had asked him why he cheated.
Adam had given the usual answers.
Stress.
Feeling disconnected.
Marina’s pregnancy changing their relationship.
Feeling wanted by Savannah.
The therapist had listened and finally said, “Those describe conditions around your choice. They do not explain why you gave yourself permission to make it.”
Adam had hated the question.
Then spent three days thinking about it.
At the café, he said, “I think I believed you would always be there.”
Marina looked at him.
He continued.
“I thought our marriage was permanent enough that I could neglect it temporarily.”
“Temporarily?”
“I know how that sounds.”
“No. Keep going.”
Adam rubbed his thumb against the cardboard sleeve around his coffee.
“I think I treated you like infrastructure.”
Marina’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Meaning?”
“Something important but automatic.”
The shame in his voice was unmistakable.
“The house. Electricity. Roads. Things you only notice when they stop working.”
Marina leaned back.
“That might be the first honest thing you’ve said about it.”