Chapter 24
Closure
Colin
“About us?” Ceci asks, her brow drawing together in confusion.
“Yes. About us.”
There are a hundred other words on my tongue… old truths, long regrets, confessions I never made. All of them left untouched for so long they no longer know how to sound like anything but guilt.
“There are things I need to tell you. Things I should’ve said a long time ago.”
She looks past me, toward the street. Then, finally, she says, “Come in.”
I step inside, and she closes the door behind me.
“I was making coffee for myself,” she says. “Do you want some?”
“Yes,” I answer too quickly.
Ceci moves toward the kitchen, and I’m left standing in the middle of the living room, unsure of where to put myself.
Sit. Don’t sit. Pace.
Do anything except stand here like a man who no longer belongs in the life he helped build... and then shattered.
I’m not certain I should even be here at all. But Dr. Lewis’s voice rises in my head. ‘You don’t avoid the wound if you want it to heal.’
“Here.”
I turn, and Ceci is holding out a mug. The scent hits me first. It’s almost cruel how fast it takes me somewhere else... to the days when we were happy. All of us.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
One sip, and guilt lodges in my chest as all the good memories rush back. If only I had understood how irreversibly silence shatters what it touches.
“You can sit, Colin.”
I realize then that I haven’t moved an inch. I sit down on the couch across from her and look at Ceci. She seems... different. Even more beautiful than the last time I saw her.
When she looks up, I look away, and we sit there without speaking, drinking our coffee.
Ceci is the first to speak.
“You said you needed to talk about us. But there hasn’t been an us for almost a year now… longer, if I’m being honest with myself. What could possibly be left for us to talk about?”
There is no accusation in her voice, only genuine confusion.
Next week will mark one year since my world collapsed. And I needed to do this before the date arrived.
“I know.”
I take the last sip and set the mug down on the coffee table.
“Maybe it’s selfish of me to bring all of this back to the surface. But I feel like I owe this.”
I lift my eyes to hers. “I owe us this. The us we were before.”
Ceci holds her mug with both hands. Her expression gives nothing away.
“I owe you an apology. A real one.”
Her confusion deepens, and I brace myself.
“Not because I got caught. And not an apology rooted in guilt. To do that... I need to tell you a few things. Things that won’t be easy for me to say, and maybe even harder for you to hear. But they might help you understand.”
I drag my hands down my thighs, wiping my palms.
“On—on the day our divorce was finalized...” The words scrape out of me, my throat raw. “Something happened. And later I realized that everything I did... all of it... came from excuses I kept feeding myself.”
I swallow hard and force myself to meet her eyes. She needs to see that what I’m about to say is unfiltered and nothing but the truth.
“When I got to the hotel, I went down to the bar... and there was a woman there… I won’t go into details. We drank. And then I spent the night with her.”
What I don’t confess is that I told myself it no longer mattered. We were no longer married. At least this time, I wouldn’t be cheating on her. Again.
I don’t tell her that despite being sober enough to remember every detail, I couldn’t remember that woman’s name the next morning. I don’t tell her how empty it felt.
“Later, when I thought about all the justifications I came up with...” I shake my head. “I realized they were nothing but excuses. Selfish. Pathetic. No different from all the others.”
“Every time I cheated on you. Every time I wasn’t there for you... for our kids.”
My voice falters, but I don’t look away. “When things started with—”
“You can say her name,” Ceci says evenly. Her face unchanged.
I nod. “When things started with Maya… I saw her interest in me clearly. I wasn’t some clueless boy. And she wasn’t the first woman to look at me that way.”
“If she wasn’t the first,” Cecily asks, “then why her?”
I close my eyes for a single breath. “She was there. She was always there. And I wanted her there. The truth is... it could have been anyone. The result would have been the same.”
My throat burns, like it’s begging me to stop. I never thought telling the truth would hurt this much.
“I knew exactly what she was doing from the beginning, and I knew the role I stepped into. At first, I told myself it wouldn’t become anything real. Just something harmless. A little flirting…
But the more time went by... the more I liked it. The attention. Being the center of her world. The way she never hid how much she wanted me.
I run a hand through my hair.
“With every passing day, I knew it was only a matter of time before I crossed that final line. And deep down, I was aware of it all... and still did nothing to keep her at a distance.”
“I may not have planned it. But I prepared for it.”
I meet her eyes. “By the time it happened, I had already bought condoms. And what married man, who had been married as long as I had, buys condoms without the intention to cheat?”
I falter, the memory bitter on my tongue.
“Looking back... it felt inevitable. Like I’d already decided long before my body ever caught up with it.
After the first time, I did what I always do with closed deals.
” It all feels like it happened yesterday, not a year ago.
“I put it away. Filed it under done… Convinced myself all I had to do was compensate you and the kids somehow, and everything would be fine.”
Another lie.
“When I saw her again... a part of me wanted to cut it off before it even started. But a bigger part convinced itself there was no harm in continuing… I’d already crossed that line.”
I force the next words out. “I didn’t love her. I never felt anything for her. I never truly cared... But even though I never admitted it to myself back then, or even afterward... I liked it. Every bit of it. I thrived in it. I loved the way she made me feel about myself.”
A flood of images hits me now, ugly enough to turn my stomach... But I also remember the rush, how powerful I felt. The thrill of the secrecy.
How she reacted to me, and the jolt it gave me.
All of it.
“Doing something I shouldn’t... believing I was completely in control... convinced I’d never get caught... It made me feel invincible.”
Ceci never looks away.
“I was careful. I took every precaution I thought I needed to. All I had to do was make sure none of it ever reached us… Our family.
You were the only woman I ever loved. That was always clear in my mind. And that was supposed to be what mattered.”
I press my lips together before continuing.
“I kept her separate from everything that was ours. I was a different man with her, and I never allowed her into our world—not even for a passing thought. I never touched you with her in my mind.
There was only you. When I was home with you, with our children... she was nothing. Not even a shadow.”
Except for once.
The thought pushes up before I can stop it. One night, while Ceci slept beside me... Disgust knots in my stomach.
But that, and what almost happened with Maya in our kitchen, is a burden that stays with me. I won’t hurt her again. Not for the rest of my life.
Ceci’s chest rises and falls.
“But the moment you walked out the door,” she says, “we stopped being at the center of your mind.”
I nod.
“Well,” she adds, “I suppose I should congratulate you on your ability to compartmentalize.”
There is no bitterness or irony in her voice. Just the truth
I handled our marriage and my affair... the same way I handled work and the rest of my life.
Two worlds. Kept perfectly apart.
“Over time,” I say, “it became easier to believe nothing would ever change. When I felt you pulling away... that’s when I started to look for Maya a little less. But I didn’t stop.
And I had no intention of stopping. Just... reducing the frequency. Being home more.”
I look at her, searching for a reaction. She gives nothing away. “There was no reason for me to stop... because you would never find out. And in my mind, there was no reason to give up something I had convinced myself I needed.”
“Needed?” she asks, incredulous.
“With Maya... there were no expectations,” I say hoarsely. “She was there whenever I wanted… In whatever way I wanted. No questions or demands.”
I hesitate. “What I’m about to say will probably make me sound like an even colder bastard than you already think I am.”
“It was all part of the thrill… The fantasy of control. Of living two separate lives. From the outside, everything looked perfect—a wife I loved, brilliant children, a company thriving, a career at its peak.”
I shake my head slowly.
“And a younger, beautiful woman catering to my every need.
I felt untouchable. Like I was playing at the highest level of my life.”
When holding her gaze becomes unbearable, I finally look away. My eyes land on a picture frame. Ceci with our kids.
“I always had an excuse.”
“I always would have.”
She studies me for a moment, her eyes guarded. “I don’t understand.”
“The excuse was always there,” I murmur. “And that’s all it ever was. An excuse.”
“A permission slip I kept writing for myself... to do whatever I wanted... convinced I’d never have to pay for it.”
I take a shaky breath.
“They weren’t even new. I did the same thing years ago…
when I was only home for dinner two nights a week during ‘difficult periods.’ When I was always the last to show up to the celebrations you planned on your own for days.
And my excuse was always the same… My job was too important. You and the kids would understand.
I kept telling myself I was building a legacy for us—that was the grand excuse. But the truth? I felt like I was losing territory in my own home.”