The light turns green, and we continue forward.
“Did Kyle cheat on me?”I ask.
“I highly doubt it.”Seth grits out the words.He turns to look at me, his expression softening, his hazel eyes on mine.“I don’t think he cheated.He loved you, Madison.More than I believed possible.”
I can hear the sincerity in his words, yet it doesn’t do much through the dark, depressive haze overtaking my mind.If Kyle was going to see Eliza on those nights he took off on his solo motorcycle rides—trips he ostensibly took to “be alone” and “give us each some space,” then what meaning did any of it hold?I thought I was being an understanding wife.I knew that nobody can be everything to someone else.Or at least, I was slowly figuring that out.
Not only that, but for five years—longer, if I count our time dating and our short marriage—I believed Kyle was the best, most honorable, attentive partner in the world.No one measured up to him before we started dating, or after.He was everything to me.
Now some offhanded remarks from his family and Eliza’s are calling his character into question.By extension, they’re calling my judgment into question.
“Madison.”Seth’s voice brings me back to the present.He has pulled over to the side of the street.“Hey.Look at me.”
I turn in my seat to face him.
“Hey.”He cups my cheek, his palm warm against my skin.“They’re assholes.I’m so sorry I put you in that situation.”
“No.I…I wanted to go.I thought it was a good idea.I thought because I’m not close with my parents, at least you should be, with yours.You gave me a hundred opportunities to skip that dinner, and I didn’t listen.”My throat feels like it’s closing up.I don’t want to cry, but damn, it feels like I need to.
Seth is quiet while I try to regain control of my emotions.
Suddenly it hits me.“You’re probably thinkingI told you so, aren’t you?”
“What?”He leans back.“Because I tried to talk you out of Thanksgiving with my parents?”
“No—because you told me not to marry Kyle, and it turns out he was lying to me and spending time with Eliza.You told us we were too young, that it wouldn’t last.”
“That never crossed my mind.”He scoffs.“Well, not until now, that is.”
“Of course.”I’m not sure if I’m more hurt, or angry.“Of course, everything comes down to our ‘mistake’ in getting married.You were right all along, weren’t you?But it was our mistake to make—you know that, right?”
“Madison.”He sighs.“Nobody will ever know if you two would have lasted.This meaningless shit with Eliza is just that—meaningless shit.And it doesn’t matter if I was right or wrong, or if you were right or wrong.He’s gone.You’re angry at the wrong thing.”
I turn to stare out the window, taking in the dark sidewalk.Very few people are out and about.Most are probably having Thanksgiving meals with friends or family.I wonder how many other people had dramatic reveals today.Holidays like this are often charged events, if the movies can be believed.Did anyone else make fast escapes like Seth and I did?
He puts the car back in gear and pulls into the street.The knowledge of what we learned tonight presses against my throat in a heavy way.At the same time, a dark anger simmers in my chest.Kyle and I had everything stacked against us—our ages, lack of familial support on either side.Seth could’ve been a support, but he seemed to hate me on sight.Kyle’s parents could’ve been a support, but that would have meant taking their attention away from themselves for two freaking seconds.Impossible.
I tried to support Kyle, but meanwhile he was confiding in fucking Eliza, of all people.
I thought she was my friend, too.
Now I understand why she didn’t get in touch after the funeral.She either felt guilty, or she couldn’t be bothered.Or perhaps she was angry.Maybe she felt she had more of a right to grieve Kyle than I did.
I’m so busy stewing in my own toxic thoughts, I don’t realize at first that we’ve passed Nove and we’re nowhere near my neighborhood.At the sight of an unfamiliar landmark, I say, “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere quiet.”
He doesn’t elaborate, and something about his tone tells me not to push.
The car travels along an old highway that winds us out of town.Streetlights are fewer and farther in between, and soon the only light comes from the dash displays.I sneak glances at Seth’s profile, at his hard jaw half-hidden by that long stubble.His gaze is intent on the road in front of us.
“Are you mad?”I ask.
“A little.”He doesn’t sound mad.But there is a coiled tension in his muscles, like any second he might spring.
Not in a scary way—in a sexy way.
I take a minute to consider that.I’m angry and sad.I shouldn’t be down for sex.
