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“I can’t smile?”
“You can.”
“Then stop interrogating me.”
He kissed my forehead. It felt good. I felt rejuvenated, almost like I’d gotten a piece of myself back that I hadn’t even realized I’d surrendered. Sex hadn’t fixed anything, and Nash hadn’t healed me. It just felt good to know my past hadn’t taken that moment from me too. That night helped me realize that I could still want someone, still be wanted, still trust, and still have a night where pleasure didn’t come attached to guilt.
I closed my eyes then the woman on the television started screaming.
“You slept with her!”
My eyes opened to Nash laughing. “Well, damn.”
I lifted my head. “What the hell are we watching?”
“I don’t know.”
The woman on-screen threw a vase and Nash rubbed my back as we both watched. The movie husband started begging and apparently he’d been having an affair with his wife’s friend.
“See,” Nash said, “shit like that I don’t understand.”
“What?”
“Cheating.”
My heart gave one hard beat.
Nash shifted beneath me. “I’ve never understood it.”
I closed my eyes. “Never?”
“No.”
I tried to keep my voice normal. “Everybody has their reasons.”
“Reasons don’t make it make sense.”
My body had gone a little less relaxed and I looked up at him. “Have you cheated before?”
His eyebrows pulled together. “Hell no.”
“But you sounded like—”
“My ex-wife did.”
Oh. My entire body went cold.
Nash’s fingers stopped moving and he stared at the television before reaching for the remote. He muted the movie, and I wished he hadn’t.
“Your ex-wife cheated on you?”
“Yeah.”
I sat up slightly. “I didn’t know that.”
“Most people don’t.” He shrugged. “We didn’t make our divorce everybody’s business.”
I pulled the blanket higher around me. “What happened?”
