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Confused, upset, and sick to my stomach, I cover my mouth with my hand. He draws a breath. “I wanted to tell you everything, and I should have, I know I should’ve. But—” His eyes widen. His face turns the color of ash. He’s looking at my hand. The hand I’ve pressed over my mouth. The hand with my wedding ring on it. He takes an abrupt step back and swallows hard. “Yes, I’m married. Did you think I’d wait around the rest of my life to see if you’d ever call me again?” His silence is electric. I can tell he wants to say something, that he’s fighting with himself about it, but whatever it is, he keeps it to himself. He slowly sets the book he’s holding on top of the others on the shelf beside my head, then turns his back and walks away. I watch him go in disbelief. Just before he tu
- Writer
