Page 73 of Cursing My Cheating Husband

How long could this go on? Every time I asked myself that question, my answer was clear: I’d continue as long as she’d let me.

I would stay in the basement. I would cook her meals and clean her house and watch her find happiness with other men. Whatever proximity to her she would grant, I’d take. Just being near her might have to be enough.

I finished my final walkthrough, confirming every detail was in place. The house gleamed. Everything was just as it should be.

Only then did I glance out the window and notice her car in the driveway!

Fuck! How had I missed her arriving? I’d wanted to greet her at the door, take her bags, and welcome her properly. Instead, I’d been so laser-focused on my prep work I hadn’t heard her drive up, and had missed a key moment.

Roaming the house, I found her on the deck, and the sight of her stopped me in the doorway.

She stood at the railing, gazing out at the water. The setting sun painted her in shades of gold. Her white sundress moved with the ocean breeze, the fabric clinging against her gorgeous figure before flowing free again. Her hair was longer than it had been at the start of summer, lighter from the sun, and it lifted gently in the wind.

She looked like something from a painting. Something beautiful and untouchable and entirely beyond what I deserved.

As the waves crashed against the beach and gulls cried overhead, I watched her, just savoring the proximity.

For a moment, I allowed myself to imagine that I was living in some reality where I had never betrayed her. Where this was an end-of-summer getaway we were taking together, as man and wife. Where I’d be able to walk up and wrap my arms tightly around her, in a way that would make her feel protected and loved.

If only I hadn’t destroyed all of that.

I shook it off and cleared my throat to alert her to my presence.

“Everything is set up,” I said, approaching her at the railing. “Just the way you like it. Is there anything else you need?”

She turned to look at me, and something flickered in her eyes that I couldn’t quite read.

“Thank you, Maddox. The house looks great.” She paused. “You’ve actually gotten quite good at this.”

Joy rushed through me at the compliment. I nodded, allowing myself a small smile, and turned to go. I’d learned not to linger, not to push my presence on her longer than she wanted it.

“Wait.”

I turned back.

“Come here,” she said.

My heart rate kicked up as I approached.

She looked out at the ocean for a long moment before speaking.

“This has been a divine summer,” she said. “After our marriage, this was exactly the detox I needed.”

“I’m glad,” I replied. And I meant it. Whatever pain the summer had caused me, her healing had been worth it.

“But summer is almost over now.”

“Yes.” Labor Day was Monday. The weather was already starting to turn.

She at last looked at me directly. “And as I’ve been thinking about fall… I’m ready to be done with our current setup. I’m putting the house on the market, and I’m finally going to move back to Nightshade Cove.”

“I understand. I’ll go with you. I’ll put in my notice at work on Tuesday,” I said immediately. Hopefully, I could work out some way to keep up my sessions with Dr. DeMille online, but otherwise it was a no-brainer that I would follow Callie wherever she went. If worst came to worst, I would start again with another therapist. There was nothing else here I cared about at all.

“You’re misunderstanding me,” Callie said, more kindly than I deserved. “I’m ready to move on from you too. You’re not coming to Nightshade Cove with me. It’s time to find your own place to move to.”

The words hit me like a physical blow. My vision actually went white at the edges.

“Are you unhappy with my service?” I asked, my voice small.