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Chapter Sixty-four
Never have threelittle words felt so good to utter. “Go to hell!” doesn’t come close. Not even “I love you” provides the same level of pure satisfaction, the sheer sense of release I experienced in that moment.Because I did!bounced off the walls and filled the house.
They say that confession is good for the soul.
They’re only partly right.
In this case, it was also good for my heart, my self-respect, my verysenseof self.
“What?!” Harrison’s face went from red to white, his eyes widening in disbelief as he reflected on the ramifications of what I’d just said.
“I erased your fucking emails,” I said, louder this time, partly to make absolutely certain that Harrison had heard me correctly, but mostly because I just loved saying it. I turned toward Sam and Daphne, their collective gasps frozen on their open mouths. “Kids, why don’t you go play in the backyard for a while?”
“Are you and Daddy going to have another discussion?” Daphne asked.
“Yes, sweetheart. I believe we are.”
“Come on, Daphne,” Sam urged, grabbing his sister’s arm and leading her quickly through the kitchen toward the back door.
My eyes remained locked on my husband’s as we waited until we heard the door close.
“You erased my emails,” Harrison said, as if still processing what this meant.
“Yourfuckingemails. Yes, I most certainly did.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I think you do.”
“You broke into my computer?”
“Well, I didn’t exactly break in. It was just sleeping. All I had to do was wake it up.”
“When? Why?”
“Last night. After we went back to bed. Something just didn’t feel right, so I waited till you fell asleep, then went back to your office to check things out.”
“You had no right.”
“Really? You’re going to make this about me?”
“You’rethe one who broke into my email.”
“You’rethe one having an affair!”
“Look. I don’t know what you think you saw…”
“Oh, I don’tthinkanything. Iknowwhat I saw, what I read.Dear Harrison…counting the days till we’re together again…You’re the best…Last night was beyond wonderful…Loved meeting your friend John.And the pictures from yourmagicaltrip to Whistler. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe that magical trip was just after my mother died. So inconsiderate of her to almost ruin your plans by dying,” I continued, unable to stop myself at this point, even if I’d tried. “I especially liked the picture of you and Wren enjoying breakfast in bed. She really knows how to take a great selfie, how to get those angles just right. I can never manage to take a good one…”
“Okay, okay,” Harrison said. “You’ve made your point.”
“How long has this been going on?” I asked.
“I really don’t want to get into it.”
“Oh, trust me, you’re already in it. How long?”
He exhaled, long and loud. “Since Prince Edward County.”
