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Setting the book on the nightstand, I slide to the side, letting my legs dangle off the side of the bed, hands folded. “Let’s talk after your call.”
She snags her phone from the bathroom vanity. “I’m canceling the call.” Setting her phone back on the vanity, she pads her bare feet toward the gray chair by the window. It’s where she likes to read, listen to music, or watch the birds build their nests.
“Can we take a moment to acknowledge a few things?” I ask.
After a few seconds, she relinquishes a nod, tucks her feet under her, and hugs the yellow floral pillow to her chest.
“If I would have stayed here, I would be dead or very close to it. Or I would have done the chemo, and maybe that would have given me a few extra months, albeit miserable months. But either way, I think we can agree that by this Thanksgiving, I would be dead.”
She flinches.
“And I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty for wanting me to stay or wanting me to do the chemo. I’m saying this for perspective. There is a bigger picture than why I went to Austin or who I saw there, which brings me to something else we need to establish. When we started dating, you told me you had been in a three-year relationship with a guy you met in college. That’s it. I know nothing else about him because you didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t ask—because it didn’t matter.”
Pressing her lips together, she holds my gaze.
“And I told you I’d been in a relationship with someone over the summer between my junior and senior years of college. Like you, I didn’t elaborate. And, like me, you didn’t ask for more information. But now I’m going to tell you.”
Again, she swallows.
“Her name is Scottie.”
Amelia blinks, releasing tears just from hearing Scottie’s name. She knows I’m on the verge of telling her things that will hurt. It’s hard to hear that the person you love has given away pieces of themselves to someone else. And it doesn’t matter how tiny the pieces are; Amelia and I share an all-consuming love. I selfishly want her whole heart as she wants the same of mine.
Over the next hour, I tell her everything from falling in love with Scottie to the last conversation I had with her before I returned home. With as much tenderness and consideration as I can offer, I tell her why Scottie’s part of the reason I should live to see another Thanksgiving. I tell her about the apothecaryI bought, the lost child I never knew about, the job I took at the general store, and my new friend who’s marrying Scottie.
I hate that it’s heartbreaking for my wife, but I must live in the light of my truth.
She sets the pillow aside and stands, combing her hands through her hair while gazing out the window. “Do you still love her?”
“I love my parents. I love your parents. I love my sister?—”
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
“Then ask it differently.”
“Are youin lovewith her?”
“No.”
“How can I believe you?”
“Because I’m here.”
She turns, hugging herself. “She’s engaged. But what if she weren’t?”
“She wasn’t engaged when I got to Austin. She hadn’t even met Koen.”
“And what if she wouldn’t have met him?”
I stand, holding out my arms. “I would still be here.”
“Because of Astrid.”
“Because of you.”
She shakes her head.
“No.” I close in on her, holding her tear-stained face. “We can’t do this. I didn’t leave you and Astrid for anyone butyou and Astrid. I didn’t go to Austin to get Scottie back. I went to Austin so I could get betterfor you and Astrid. I didn’t go see Scottie to remember why I loved her. I knew she’d let me?—”
