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“No. You want the man he was before he cheated. You’ve been grieving that guy so hard, you haven’t been able to move on.”
“Ouch,” I muttered, and went for another bite of chocolate ice cream.
“Am I wrong?”
I made a noncommittal sound. Because, well, she wasn’t wrong. Now that she’d spelled it all out, I had to agree with her. Ihadloved Matteo all along, and Ihadn’tbeen able to move on because I couldn’t let go of who he’d been before he’d cheated. The six years we’d had together were hard to leave behind, and two days ago, I’d basically gone back in time to when everything was still good. I’d remembered what it was like to think Matteo hung the moon. I’d remembered what it was like to have a crisis and immediately go to him. Because who else would I go to?
I knew the truth now. His cheating and the last year—they’d happened.
But so had the last couple of days.
Matteo’s apologies. The raw pain in his voice and his eyes as he’d told me how he’d wished he could undo it all and how much that one night had ripped its way through his life as well as it had mine. That moment when he’d been deep inside me, holding me close in the bed we’d once shared, and he’d broken under the weight of his regret.
When he’d told me everything recently, he’d had nothing to gain except maybe to soothe his conscience a little. Getting back together hadn’t been on the table. Forgiveness hadn’t been on the table.
A year ago, I’d hated him. The entire year since, I hadn’t been able to let go of my anger or heartache.
Then, for a little while, that had all been gone. Now I was remembering and reliving that awful night and all the time since then, but my perspective was different. As if the last couple of days had put more distance between me and our split than the entire last year. I’d seen Matteo worn thin and ragged from his own regret. He’d done nothing to excuse cheating on me and ruining our relationship. Nothing to downplay what he’d done or pin any blame on me or the other guy. I could see the toll it had all taken in the way his cheeks had turned gaunt and his eyes had lost that spark I’d loved for so long.
I’d sworn forever that cheating was a red line and that there was no going back. How could I trust someone again after that?
I hated him for what he’d done.
And I also hated his absence in the condo.
I met Shiloh’s gaze again. “Am I being dramatic, still being so fucked up by this after a whole year? Like it’s completely overrun my life, but—” I flailed a hand at her. “You got over Troy cheating in like a month. This shit isn’t normal.”
I almost expected her to smack my knee and tell me she’d been waiting for me to figure that out. Now I could snap out of it and get back to my life.
But she didn’t. Sighing, she leaned over and put her ice cream on a coaster. Then she folded her hands in her lap and met my gaze. “My relationship with Troy wasn’t like what you had with Matteo. You aren’t getting over a boyfriend cheating. You’re getting overMatteocheating.”
How was that such a gut punch?
“Yeah, I get it,” I said quietly. “We were relationship goals and all that. But that makes what he did even worse, doesn’t it?”
“It does. But you guys really did have something special. And now, hell, after what you’ve told me, you’ve seen how much he regrets ruining that, even after all this time.” She offered a slight half shrug. “Maybe he deserves a chance to make it right. Maybe you deserve that too.”
I had to force back a sudden lump in my throat. “Would I be betraying myself if I took him back?”
Shiloh pursed her lips and seemed to think about that for a moment. Finally, she shook her head. “If this had been a year ago, or even a few months ago, I’d have said yes. And I’d have been cringing all the way because I know your dumb ass won’t listen to me, and I’d just be waiting for you get your heart broke again.”
I couldn’t help the chuckle. That was exactly how it would’ve played out, too.
“But now…” Shiloh chewed her lip.
I arched an eyebrow. She hadn’t had a single pleasant thing to say about Matteo ever since she’d learned about him cheating, and that was being gentle about it.
“Look,” she said. “I hated him and was ready to slash his tires for you or sign his work email up for a bunch of weird fetish porn spam. But you’re different about him now. And if it’s obviously been killing him, then I don’t think he’ll fuck up again.”
“But I swore it was a red line,” I said. “Once a cheater, always a cheater, you know?”
She inclined her head. “Has anything about him the last couple of days suggested he’s going to wander again?”
Chewing my lip, I shook my head. “Honestly? No. He’s been a mess.”
“Right. Because it sounds like he knows he fucked up. And peopledocome back from cheating. It takes work, but it can be done.” She nudged my knee with her sock-covered foot. “And from what you’ve said, he’s willing to put in the work.”
I swallowed. I couldn’t argue with that, could I? Because if nothing else, the last couple of days had shown me Matteo all but begging for a way to make this right. Deep down, I was sure that if I told him he needed to crawl the entire length of the Appalachian Trail on his hands and knees in the dead of winter, he’d be on the next plane to… wherever that trail started. His eyes had pleaded with me over and over:“Tell me how to make this right. Whatever it takes.”
