Lies.
He’s taken a wrecking ball to my carefully crafted world, blasting through the illusions I’ve surrounded myself with and sending it all crumbling to the ground. But I am not surprised, even when I’m left standing in the ashes of a life we’ve built together, facing down a cold realization that I no longer recognize myself.
I feelweak, like my passivity in our life, our relationship, has somehow given him permission to throw our family away. But I’m not to blame for his choices. It’s something I know, even if it’ll take some time for me to truly believe it.
The desolation is beaten back by a searing fury, and I allow it, stoking the flames higher, letting it settle deep in my bones, even as he sits beside me, tapping out a message towhomever, oblivious to what he’ll let loose.
“You think Ginny’s alright?” he asks with affected concern. I don’t doubt he loves our daughter, but his question feels like a way to fill the heavy silence—as if he senses something amiss, even if he can’t put his finger on the pulse of it.
“I hope so,” I murmur, wondering what I pulled my husband away from when I called him.
Was he in his office? In a hotel?
Or is he that guy who fucks a colleague in the place where his wife often meets him for lunch?
A spark of amusement warms the ice in my chest as I imagine him fucking someone in a dark storage closet. Against the dirty vanity in the men’s bathroom, right nextto the urinal. Or twisting himself into a pretzel in the back seat of his car.
The possibilities are endless, and Gail didn’t give me even the slightest hint, her tone coolly professional as she informed me that Christopher was, “in a meeting, and not to be disturbed.” Her attitude had softened after I told her why I was calling, but still, she had reiterated, “He’ll get back to you as soon as he can,” like Ginny breaking her goddamn arm was an inconvenience for them both.
Fingers grip my chin, turning my head until my eyes lock with the brown of my husband’s—eyes I used to think were beautiful, but now, just look like mud.
Or dog shit,a mocking voice whispers.
“Lynnie,” he coos softly, expression affectionate. He’s gentle with me, treating me with kid gloves, like I’m a step away from shattering. I didn’t mind being treated like I was breakable, because once upon a time, it made me feel safe. Like being wrapped in the softest cotton, knowing that if I fell, I’d always have a gentle landing.
I can see it for what it really was now. Another carefully crafted lie, a mask to hide the rot underneath. It’s just another way for him to tuck me away into a box, compartmentalizing me whenever I am out of sight and only pulling me out when he is ready to play with me again.
He leans forward, nose almost brushing mine. “You’re a thousand miles away, Lynley,” he says, eyes creasing at the corners. “What’s going on in those pretty blue eyes?”
I sigh, looking away, flinging my gaze around the room, searching for anything else to focus on but him. I’m not a good actress—never have been—and I won’t be able to hide my resentment.
Not when it is all too fresh, and I’m so filled with worry about Ginny. Not when my fury isoverflowing, dripping into disgust, about the fact that he’d turn up here like this. Not when I want to rip his hands off me and beat him with them. I need to play the long game.
There is too much at stake to give it all away too soon.
“I’m tired,” I whisper brokenly after a moment, a tear escaping my eye before I can stop it. He doesn’t think twice, swiping it away with his thumb, his expression tender as I tell him, “I just wish they’d let us see her. She must be so scared.”
Christopher holds me for another beat before I pull away, ignoring the way his brows twitch into a frown. He shakes it off, sliding an arm around my shoulders and pulling me into him, the armrest between us digging into my side. I allow it, even if I don’t relax, holding myself stiff.
The smell lingering on him swarms me, my stomach clenching in a threat to revolt. I open my mouth, taking in short little bursts of air to limit the smell, but it’s all I can taste.
The perfect mix of him and his betrayal.
I droponto the couch with a glass of wine, only having just gotten Ginny to sleep. Her emotions have been a riot of chaos all afternoon, especially when she learned that she won’t be able to attend ballet until she gets cleared by the doctor.
Christopher retreated back to the office straight after she was discharged, his mind already on other things when he told me the disruption had thrown off his day, leaving a mess for him to clean up. He had pressed a casual kiss across my cheek, stroked a hand over Ginny’s head, andthen left, calling back that he would be home late and not to wait up.
My phone has been silent all evening, without even a single message from him to check on his daughter.
Just as I lift my glass to my lips, my phone chimes beside me, and I pick up, rolling my eyes when I catch my sister’s name.
“Oh mygod,” she says as soon as I greet her. “What on earth happened to Ginny?”
“She took a tumble off the playground at school,” I say. “How did you hear about it?”
There’s a slight pause. “Christopher mentioned it,” she says, leaving me to wonder when on earth my busy husband would have had time to talk to my sister.
“Did he?” I wonder. “Well, Ginny’s asleep now. She’ll bounce back in no time, I’m sure.”
