Chapter Seven
I woke to a headache brutal as the aftermath of a three-day bender, though I hadn't touched a drop.
The world tilted when I rolled from the bedsheets and stood—the floorboard pressing cold against my toes, last night's clothes thrown in a careless heap, a towel slumped like defeat over the chair arm.
I blinked thickly, disoriented and raw, every throb in my skull echoing the previous night.
First things first: coffee, a desperate caffeine lifeline.
Thoughts tried to storm in. I refused them, focusing instead on what was physically there.
One step in front of the other. The hollow of my back, the ache in my temples, the sticky warmth on my skin.
That's when I noticed: I was naked. Just my own skin and this unfinished fight.
Somewhere across the room Cam's shower pounded the pipes, walls faintly trembling under the surge.
I had no intention of walking in there, not yet, not with all that hung unspoken between us.
Instead, I pawed through a drawer for underwear, tugged on a breezy summer dress, left my bra draped where it was—I couldn't muster the extra layer—and slipped on a pair of flats.
I padded to the kitchen. The water I found in the fridge was arctic, relieving, and I let the bottle empty almost in one breath as I started the coffee.
I didn't bother turning when his footsteps crossed tile behind me.
“Morning, babe,” he called, buoyant, as if nothing ached at the edges.
The memory—the humiliation of it, the heartbreak sharp as glass in my chest—all of it rushed back and I clenched every muscle not to weep right there over the coffee grounds. But I must've still had tears left in me; I could feel them pressing behind my eyes.
“Good morning, Cam,” he drawled in a parody of my own voice, mocking where I was silent. “Hope you slept well.”
I stared straight ahead and measured out the beans. Kept my hands steady.
He dragged a bar stool over the tile, the scrape rough and final. I could picture exactly how he looked, elbows braced, gaze fixed on my back.
“I’m sorry, Livi. I don’t know how else to say it.” His voice was lower now, thick with the same old apology.
When I finally turned, I put the counter between us, arms folded high and hard across my chest. “You can say it was a mistake. You can say it won’t happen again. You can say you’ve realized that you only need your wife to be happy, not a bunch of other women.”
The air held a beat of silence, taut as a wire.
“It’s not a bunch of other women,” he said finally, like that made a difference.
“Oh please, Cam. Just tell me it was a one-off. That you’re done now.”
He didn’t answer. The answer, I realized, was in the hush itself.
I turned away from him and finished the coffee, my hands moving by rote. Whatever words existed had long since dried up between us.
I set his mug on the countertop, refusing to lift my eyes to his. When his fingers brushed mine taking the cup, I shivered, every nerve tuned to the memory of last night.
“I love you, Livi.” He kept his tone gentle, setting the words down before me like offerings. “You’ll come to terms with this, I promise. Just give it time.”
“Yeah, whatever,” I muttered. At the threshold, mug in hand, I didn’t look back. I just left the room. Couldn’t be near him, not with all this panic and anger and fear ricocheting inside me.
The living room was dim and cool, and I folded myself into the corner of the couch, knees pressed to chest, cradling the coffee like some kind of shield.
My mind spun. Behind me, silent in the doorway, I felt Cam watching, measuring, but he didn’t speak.
Neither did I. Pointless, really. He’d go on breaking my heart and I’d go on letting him do it, at least until there was nothing left. Or until one of us just... left.
He crossed the room eventually, bent to press a kiss to my forehead, rested his own against mine for a long and private moment.
“I know I keep saying this,” he murmured, “but I really am sorry. I hate seeing you like this. It hurts me to see you hurting.”
“Then stop hurting me.” I looked up and caught his gaze, letting every ounce of heartbreak fill my voice. “Only you can make this go away.”
He held my stare as if he might finally yield, and for one second hope cracked through me, fierce and bright. But the moment shuttered closed.
“I’m sorry,” Cam said again, soft but unmoved. “I’ll see you tonight. We’ll watch a movie, just us. Here at home. Try to have a nice evening.”
“I’d rather not,” I replied, hollow.
“I’ll be home at 5:30. Think of some plans for tomorrow, too. Aquarium maybe. Something just for us.”
When I didn’t reply, he left with a long, tired sigh. For once, I was relieved. The click of the front door was a balm.
∞∞∞
Rachel’s apartment was a different country. Even empty, it felt safer. She was at work, but I let myself in with the key she’d insisted I keep, dropped my bag on the guest bed, and texted a warning.
I’m at your place. Sorry for not giving you a heads up.
Her reply was instant: You have key for a reason. I’ll see you after work!
Her kitchen was stocked better than mine, like she knew I’d come. I made a latte, letting the expensive machine foam and hiss, and toasted a bagel to slather with blueberry cream cheese. I ate standing by the counter, greedy with hunger I hadn’t even acknowledged until now.
Then: couch, television remote, volume low. I clicked through channels, restless, trying to keep my mind from drifting back to Cam and the sour note of last night. Would he notice when I was gone? Did any of it register for him, or was this, too, just another detour from what he wanted?
Why did he need me at all, if this was what he wanted? Why say he loved me, if love looked like this?
My phone buzzed. A message from Cam.
I miss you baby.
I stared at it, fingers rigid. He hadn’t sent anything like that in ages. Not just a casual I miss you in the midday lull.
Then another: I hope you aren’t sitting at home obsessing over everything. Don’t think about the details. Just know that I love you. Remember you’re my heart. Nothing in this world can change that.
What did I say to that? I closed the phone and set it aside, unwilling to answer, unwilling even to find the words.
Rachel arrived later, the slam of the front door jolting me from the sofa.
“Were you napping?” She grinned, pointing at my hair. “You must have been, your hair looks like a bird’s nest.”
It was later than I’d realized. Nearly five. I blinked, yawned, rubbed my gritty eyes.
“Sorry to just show up,” I said.
She scoffed. “Please. You know you don’t have to ask me.”
She dropped her purse and collapsed into the chair beside me, looking me over with that deliberate, careful concern she always had.
“How long are you staying? What’s happened?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “At least tonight. He went through with it.”
She exhaled sharply. “You knew he would. Men don’t back out of these things.”
“I was still hoping,” I whispered.
She reached across, squeezed my knee, face full of sympathy. “Nothing wrong with hope,” she said. “But it makes everything sharper when it falls apart. I’m sorry, Livi. You don’t deserve this.”
“I don’t,” I agreed. “That’s why I’m here. He just… there’s no remorse. He keeps saying he’s sorry, keeps insisting he doesn’t want to hurt me—but he does it anyway. I begged him not to do this again, to make it the last time. But he’s nowhere near stopping.”
“Because he knows you’ll let him.”
Her eyes fixed mine. I felt the sting of it, the truth.
“I’m sorry, Livi, but you need to see this for what it is.
He’s only getting away with this because he knows how much you love him.
That you’ll do anything for him. Even if it means swallowing your pain.
You feel like you owe it to him, because you can’t give him the family he wants. So you’re punishing yourself.”
“I don’t think I deserve that,” I said quietly.
“You don’t. But most women would have shown him the door the moment he mentioned opening the marriage. I know I would’ve.”
I ducked my head, pressing fists to my forehead. “I know. I wish I wasn’t so weak.”
“You’re not weak, Livi. Don’t ever say that. You’re just lost in him, that’s all. And he does love you. I’ve always thought that. He just loves you in this stupid, twisted way that leaves you bleeding.”
“But not enough to stop hurting me,” I said, voice shrinking.
“I don’t think he does it to hurt you,” Rachel said. “He really believes it’s the only way he’ll find his way back to you. Men are idiots like that. They’ll turn the world upside down instead of just sitting in their pain.”
That made me laugh, bitter and real. “You’re right.”
She pat my leg briskly and bounced to her feet. “Let’s get food. There’s a new sushi spot down the street I want to try.”
We walked in silence, both of us caught up in private weather. At the table, soy sauce already pooled on my plate, I checked my phone: three missed texts from Cam.
Where are you baby?
Did you go on a food run? I’m starved.
I shook my head softly. The irony was almost more than I could take.
Please hurry. I’m excited to spend time with you tonight.
Unbelievable. I’d begged months for his attention, scraped for scraps. Now, the moment I’m gone, he acts ravenous for it.
I shoved the phone deep in my pocket and reached for another piece of sushi; today, a plain California roll, comforting in its simplicity.
“Cam?” Rachel asked, eyebrow arched.
“He’s home, on time for once, wondering where I am.”
“Are you telling him?”
“No,” I said. “I don’t want to talk to him.”
I opened the soy sauce, dousing the roll. A tiny act of rebellion.
“You can’t hide from him forever.”
“I know. But I can right now.”
Rachel laughed, unwrapping her own knot of sashimi, something elegant and mysterious I couldn’t even pronounce.
“I got a job offer,” I blurted over the chopsticks.
Her expression brightened at once. “That’s amazing! Where?”
“A bookstore. They sell antiques too. It’s kind of far, but I could walk.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
I shrugged. “Why not? I’m not chasing money. Cam has plenty. But I need to start learning how to stand on my own. Just in case…” The words faded.
“Just in case you and Cam don’t make it.” She finished it for me, gentle.
I nodded, staring at the tabletop. “I’ve been thinking about it for months. Even before he asked for this. He’s been drifting away so long, it’s like I’m just waiting on the verdict. What if he finds someone else? Someone who can give him what he needs?”
She slipped her hand over mine. “I don’t see Cam ever letting you go, Livi. He needs you as much as you need him. But still, I’m glad you’re preparing. Just in case.”
My phone dinged, another message from Cam.
Are you on your way back?
The pattern was so predictable I almost laughed: his texts came urgent and desperate, but whenever I reached for him, hours could pass without a reply.
“He’ll figure out where you are,” Rachel said.
“I know. But today, I need the distance.”
I bit into the sushi, let the salt and cool rice settle my stomach. The city outside glowed warm and unblinking through the window. I felt almost human again.
“I get it. Do you want to go out tonight?” Rachel asked, voice bright with possibility.
I shook my head. “Not really. I think I just want to catch up on some sleep.”