“Hey, I didn’t do shit with her until I ended things with you so get off my ass. I did right by you.”
“You did right by me?” The hand at my side curled into a fist. “How? You cheated!”
“No, I fucking didn’t!” he growled. “I waited, Syd. Saw Christine a few months back when I was visiting my mom after her surgery, Christine just happened to be doing an x-ray on her, got to talking a little and, yeah, I may have flirted but I didn’t touch her until after you left. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Oh, you’re such a decent guy, Marcus,” I snapped. “You still looked at her.”
“I had to look at her. She was working on my mom.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
“Don’t give me a fucking attitude like everything was perfect between us. You know it wasn’t. We were drifting, Syd. We barely spoke anymore and we sure as hell weren’t fucking. Things weren’t good. The time we were spending together we spent bickering over bullshit. Christ, come on,” he pleaded. “It wasn’t fun anymore. You know it wasn’t. Neither one of us was happy. So when a pretty girl showed me attention after I’d gone months without getting it from my own wife, I noticed, and I gave her that same attention back. It felt good.”
“I can’t believe this,” I whispered. “You’re saying this was my fault?”
“I’m saying I wasn’t happy. You weren’t either,” he stated indifferently. “Found someone who could make me happy and I’m not about denying myself when shit at home wasn’t worth being miserable over. We were done.”
“We could’ve worked things out,” I murmured, then blinked and sent the tears free-falling. “Fought for it.”
“I was tired of fighting, Syd. So were you.”
I closed my eyes.
He was right. I couldn’t dispute it.
I had been tired, mind and heart exhausted in my marriage. I wasn’t happy with the way things were but that didn’t mean I was considering a life without my husband. I wasn’t at that point a month ago.
But he was. He’d been there for God knows how long.
Reached that point and gone farther. He put it into motion.
He wandered.
“You weren’t supposed to see anyone but me, Marcus. You promised, in our vows, remember? Only me.” I inhaled through shattered breaths and spoke with tear-soaked lips as my eyes lost focus on a streetlamp. “But you looked at her. You looked at her when you were mine. How could you do that?”
“You weren’t looking at me anymore,” he answered guiltlessly. “I was just the first one of us to realize there was somewhere else to look.”
I swallowed down the sick creeping up my throat.
This was cheating in my eyes, no matter how hard he disputed it. I knew how I felt and how much it hurt knowing the truth.
Ten minutes ago I hated my husband for cutting me loose without an explanation.
Now I hated him for not doing it sooner.
“Got the papers for you to sign. I’ll put them in the mail tomorrow. Overnight them.”
“You know where I am?” I asked, the backs of my fingers catching a tear.
“Tori’s,” he replied. “Christine said she heard you moved to Dogwood.”
“Right.” I rolled my eyes. “Thanks a lot for checking up on me, by the way. Nice to know you cared enough to make sure I was all right after seven years.”
“We weren’t happy together, Syd. Knew you’d be good once you got away. Same as me. I’m better now.”
“Not gonna lie and say I’m glad to hear that, ’cause I’m not,” I huffed.
“It’s better for both of us. You’ll see.”
“Whatever. Send the papers. I’ll sign them, then I don’t ever want to hear from you or see your face again.”
Marcus sighed. “This doesn’t need to get ugly, Sydney.”
Seriously?
Seriously …
I sucked in a breath.
“It got ugly the second you cheated on me, Marcus.”
“I didn’t cheat,” he argued. “Lookin’ and flirtin’ ain’t cheating.”
“You’re an idiot if you think that’s true, and honestly? I’m glad I’m not tied to you anymore if these were your beliefs all along. God knows how much lookin’ and flirtin’ you’ve been doing behind my back over the years.”
“Never hurt you, did it?”
My breath caught somewhere between my chest and my throat.
He’d been looking and flirting. All these years, he’d been doing it.
Oh, God …
Hand cupping my mouth and body trembling, I listened as he continued on enlightening me of his ways.
“Way it is, Syd. As long as it’s not taken a step further, nothing wrong with it.”
Nothing wrong with it.
Those were his thoughts, ones he never felt the need to share with me.
This conversation was over.
“Send the papers,” I whispered with fresh tears in my eyes, lowered the phone while hopefully disconnecting it—I couldn’t know for sure because I couldn’t see anything through my veil of watery suffering—pushed the device into my purse, and spun around on weak footing, moving with devastated purpose to get back under the pavilion and to my best friend before I collapsed right there in the middle of the parking lot.