Chapter 17
"Because you always came back after we fought."
The words explained more than he knew.
I studied him.
"I wasn't coming back after fights, Adrian. I was staying in my marriage."
He looked at me.
"There's a difference."
I unlocked my car.
Before getting in, I said, "You thought my commitment meant I had no limit."
He whispered, "I know."
That was the turning point.
Not his therapy.
Not Lauren leaving.
Not the dinner.
Those words.
I know.
For the first time, Adrian stopped arguing with the truth.
It did not save our marriage.
But it changed the way we ended it.
A month later, we began joint counseling.
Not reconciliation counseling.
Divorce counseling.
The therapist was a gray-haired woman named Dr. Patel who had an irritating ability to let silence stretch until one of us finally said the thing we were avoiding.
During our second session, she asked me what I was most angry about.
"The affair," Adrian said.
She looked at me.
I shook my head.
"Not exactly."
He turned toward me.
I thought for a moment.
"The months he convinced me not to trust myself."
Adrian went still.
I continued.
"If he'd told me he was attracted to someone else, that would have hurt. If he'd told me our marriage was failing, that would have terrified me. If he'd even told me he'd cheated once, I would have been devastated."
My voice tightened.
"But he watched me notice the truth and made me feel unstable for noticing."
Dr. Patel nodded.
Adrian stared at his hands.
"That's the part I don't know how to forgive."
He whispered, "I was scared."
"I know."
"I thought if I admitted any part of it, I'd lose everything."
"And instead?"
He looked at me.
"I lost everything."
Dr. Patel spoke softly.
"Not everything."
Adrian frowned.
"You lost the marriage. You did not lose your ability to decide who you become after it."
For a while, none of us spoke.
That evening, Adrian sent a message.
I understand why being sorry isn't enough. I'm going to stop asking you to make me feel better about that.
I read it twice.
Then I typed:
Thank you.
And sent it.
It was one of the first messages between us that did not ask for anything else.
Meanwhile, my apartment began becoming a home.
I bought a round oak table that fit beside the kitchen windows.