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There has to be another explanation.
There has to be.
But what possible explanation could there be? What could he possibly say to explain why he has another woman’s underwear in his pocket? There is no reason for it whatsoever. Nothing he can say can justify it.
I barely muffle the loud cry that erupts from my lips with my hand.
Never, in all the years that Hunter and I have been together, have I ever doubted his love and dedication to me. I knew to the marrow of my bones, to the depths of my soul,with every fiber of my being, that he would never touch another woman intimately.
How could I have been so wrong?
Could it be something I did? Is there something he gets from this other woman that he doesn’t get from me? Am I not enough for him anymore? Do I no longer please him?
No answers to these questions would be acceptable excuses for cheating. No reason is good enough. Nothing gives him the right to hurt me like this.
And this certainly hurts. The pain is so intense that I wouldn’t be surprised if I looked down and saw my shredded heart on the floor at my feet. It hurts to breathe, so I hold my breath. Part of me wishes I could hold it forever until the blistering pain stops. It will never go away, though. I’ll feel it for the rest of my life.
The ache grows and festers, becoming a permanent lesion on my soul. My eyes water, and my lips tremble.
Hearing the front door close, I blink and force back the tears. I’m not ready to confront him just yet. I shove the pain aside, refusing to let it cripple me just yet. I need time to think. I need time to process. Later, I can fall apart.
Putting the thong in my pocket, I haphazardly throw clothes into the washer, no longer willing to check pockets. What if I find more damning evidence?
Suddenly, a memory resurfaces. This isn’t the first sign that Hunter has been with another woman. He came home with the scent of another woman a few weeks ago.
I made excuses then, since the alternative was unbelievable. But the thong? There is no plausible explanation for it. I can’t even say they belong to one of the girls from the club. That maybe he found it randomly and it doesn’t belong to someone he’s been intimate with. If that were the case, he would have tossed them away. There’s a reason why a man keeps a woman’s panties. Because they mean something to him. There’s only one reason why he would have them.
I also watched from the window a few weeks ago as he put his ring back on. Why would he have taken his wedding ring off?
Hurt weighs heavily on my shoulders and in my heart. But there’s also anger. So much anger.
How dare he do this. How dare he destroy what I’ve always thought was special between us.
“Hey.”
My shoulders stiffen when his deep, rumbly voice comes from behind me. I wipe all emotions from my face before turning to him. I must do a terrible job because he’s in my face the next instant. My eyes well with tears when he cups my cheeks and looks at me like I’m the most important person in the world to him.
For years, I thought I was.
“What’s wrong?” he demands, his tone deepened by worry that looks so genuine.
I paste on a fake smile, but I’m sure it looks more like a wince. “Nothing. I feel a headache coming on.”
For the first time in my life, I’m able to make use of my headaches. And it’s not a lie. I feel the beginnings of one in the back of my head.
He pulls my head forward and presses a kiss against my forehead. “How about you let me take care of this? We’ll get you some medicine and you can lie down for a while.”
“Okay,” I mumble, too afraid to say more and give away the large lump in my throat.
We enter the kitchen, and I stand numbly while Hunter grabs a pain pill and a glass of water. After swallowing the pill, he leads me upstairs. I feel like I’m on autopilot. Walking naturally because that’s what people do, but not caring or understanding where I’m going.
As the bed presses against the back of my legs, I automatically sink down.
“Let’s get these off you,” Hunter says, his voice sounding miles away.
When I lie down, I barely feel him remove my pants and place the cover over me. I let my head fall to the side, and I notice his phone on the nightstand hooked up to the charger.
I roll my head back to Hunter. “I left my phone downstairs. Can you grab it for me?”
