Chapter 23 #2
David’s eyes go wide the second he sees me.
“Olivia—” I laugh. It’s sharp, automatic, not even real laughter, just something my body does to stop me from screaming.
“I was about to ask if I could join,” I say, my voice too calm, too even.
“But I didn’t want to interrupt.” For a split second, no one moves.
The room smells like perfume that isn’t mine.
She’s still frozen, half-hidden behind him, wide-eyed and useless.
I look straight at her, and she drops her gaze like a guilty kid caught stealing.
I don’t slam the door. I don’t cry. I don’t throw anything, even though a part of me wants to tear the whole place apart. I turn around and go.
He fumbles after me, yanking on pants, tripping over himself.
“Olivia, wait—” At the bottom of the stairs, he grabs my arm.
Instinct snaps in me, and I spin on him so fast his fingers slip off my sleeve like he’s been burned.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I spit. He jerks back as if I struck him.
“I, I— that’s not what—” He stutters, hunting for sentences the way a drowning man grabs at air.
I cut him off before he can shape whatever lie he’s been rehearsing.
“Oh, you really are going to say ‘that’s not what it looked like’?
” The words are a blade. “Because it looked exactly like you were fucking your assistant in our bed.” My voice doesn’t waver.
I say it as plainly as I would say the weather, because naming it takes some of the power away.
He goes pale. For a second, he’s breathless, like someone pulled the air out of the room.
“It doesn’t mean anything. I swear it was just—”
“Just what?” I laugh, and the sound is little and bitter.
“Just sex? Just a mistake? Because that makes it okay, right?” I can feel the blood in my ears; everything goes narrow and focused until there’s only him and the words I owe myself.
“I want her gone now. And when I get back with the kids, I want you gone too.”
He moves, like he thinks blocking the door will change where I’m headed. Like trapping me in this house will fix what he broke. He plants himself there, arms out, ridiculous and small. “Please,” he says, voice raw, “just talk to me. Don’t leave. Don’t—”
“What’s there left to say?” I ask, quieter now, and it’s worse. The room seems to inhale. He meekly lowers his arms, like a man realizing the joke isn’t funny anymore.
He tries again, the same old lines he always used when something needed fixing, excuses, explanations, the cadence of somebody who’s practiced being forgiven. None of it lands. I hear his words, but I don’t feel them. They’re a broadcast from a different planet.
My hands are shaking, not just from anger. From the way the world rearranged itself. I look at him, and I don’t see the man who walked into my life. I see a stranger.
I see how the father of my children just told me, with his actions, that our life was over.
“Get her out,” I say. “Now.” My voice is cold. The command fills the stairs, and there’s no room for bargaining. I don’t wait to watch what he does next.
I slam the door behind me and go straight to my car.
And then, once I’m alone, I cry the whole way to school.
I’m furious and humiliated. And then I realize what a hypocrite I am.
I’m here putting David on the spot because he cheated on me when I’ve been doing the same for the past week. What a joke. I’m such a fucking idiot.
I almost call Ethan out of sadness and anger. My thumb hovers over his name. But I don’t press it. I won’t let this betrayal drive me back into someone else’s arms. I won’t make this worse.
The kids run to me like I hung the moon. I hug them like I’m not shaking inside. We grab burgers and milkshakes, and I fake normal. Because that’s what moms do. Under the table, I text Julia. I explained everything, and she’s as shocked as I am.
Julia: I’m here. I love you.
Back home, Beatriz is in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove, humming under her breath. She looks up, surprised to see me this early.
“Oh! You’re home—”
“Yeah,” I say, forcing a small smile. “We grabbed something on the way. But please, eat what you made. We’ll have the leftovers tomorrow.” She hesitates, but smiles, spoon midair, like she can feel the air shift before I even register it myself. “David’s in his office,” she murmurs.
The words hit like a static charge. Before I can respond, I hear him behind me. “Olivia.” The house goes silent.
“Can we talk?” She scoops up the kids from the living room floor, murmurs something about bath time, and disappears upstairs without another word.
He steps into the kitchen, careful, like approaching a wounded animal.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “It was a mistake. I didn’t mean to hurt you.
” I lean against the counter, cross my arms, and look at him, really look at him, and for the first time, I see someone I don’t recognize. “How long?” I ask.
He blinks. “What?”
“How long has this been going on?” His mouth opens, closes. No sound. The pause is answer enough. “How long have you been screwing her, David?”
He flinches, but he doesn’t lie. He knows better than that.
“A few months, maybe since February or so.” Something inside me shuts off.
The pain is off, the rage is long gone, and I go numb.
I’ve been beating myself for the last weeks, and especially the previous hours, thinking how I’m a hypocrite, thinking of ways we could work this out.
Thinking that I could come home, tell him the truth about Ethan, ask for forgiveness, and try to move on.
“Since February? Since your work trip to New York?” He nods.
“I want to know how this started.”
“Olivia, I don’t think that—” I stop him. “I want to know how it started.”
He sighs, “We were at the hotel bar after the conference, everybody said their goodbyes, and we just kept talking. She’s been flirting with me since the company Christmas party, but I ignored it.
She said she was into me, she got close to me, and kissed me.
I know I should’ve stopped right there, but I just… Olivia, please.”
“Keep talking,” I know I’m just torturing myself right now, but I need to know. “She invited me to her room. I was drunk. I follow her and well.”
“And well, what David?” Now I’m angry. He can seriously screw her in our bed, but he can’t sit down and tell me what the hell happened? “What do you want me to say, Olivia?”
“The truth, all of it”
“I went to her room, and we had sex. We spent the night together and the rest of that trip. After that, we started seeing each other around. She was on every work trip I’ve taken this year, so yeah, it happened again.
Happy now?” Something snaps in me. I decided in a split second.
“Call my lawyer. We’re getting a divorce. ”
“Olivia—”
“You made your choice months ago. I’m making mine now.”
“You’re ending our marriage over a mistake?” I laugh, sharp and ugly. “A mistake? You’ve been having an affair with your assistant for basically a whole year. You’ve been lying to me. You let her into our house. Into our bed. She was at the kids’ birthdays this year for fuck sakes.”
His jaw tightens. “And what about you?” he says suddenly. “If I have to guess, I’ll say that you haven’t exactly been a saint. Or am I wrong?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Oh, now I’m angry; he is trying to spin this back at me. He is crazy. “You’ve been with your ex for almost three weeks, Olivia. You went out with him; there were nights you didn’t call. I’m not stupid.”
“Her fucking mom died, David. Of course, I spent time with him. His siblings are my friends; my sister is one of them. What the fuck did you expect?”
“Not my wife spending time and getting drunk with her long-lost ex.”
“Well, I didn’t expect to come home and find my husband with his assistant bouncing on his dick and then find out he’s been fucking her for a whole year. So, I guess we both expected something a bit different than reality, didn’t we?”
I’m not saying a thing about Ethan and me; he doesn’t get to know the truth now. He backs off after that, voice low now. “I’m sorry. That was out of line. Please... can we talk tomorrow?”
“You can talk to my lawyer.”
Me: Need to talk. Emergency. David cheated. I want to proceed with the divorce.
That night, I slept in the guest room. If you can call it sleep. I stare at the ceiling for hours. My body is still on the bed, but my mind is screaming at me. I grab some sleeping pills and roll over to the side. And let the numbness take me away.