Victoria #2
“So she’s…” He raised his eyebrows, probably doing the math in his head.
“Twenty-six.” I winced.
He shook his head. “You said he cheated…”
“Not with Alex,” I corrected, understanding where his train of thought was headed. “She was living in Chicago when that happened. She moved back to Boston last year, and since Graham socializes with my parents at the country club, he and Alexandra got to know one another.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. He preferred Tinder and one-time hookups with twenty-somethings. Nothing long term.”
His jaw went rigid. “Oh fuck.”
My eyes stung again. Dammit. I put my head in my hands, too tired to fight the pain. The first clue I had was when a friend from work told me she’d seen a Tinder profile she swore was his. Then I found the photos and texts on his phone.
Red-hot shame flooded my veins like it did every time I remembered those days.
“Sorry.” I sniffled. “It’s been two years since I found out, and I’m still so ashamed.”
“Why?” he asked, his voice soft. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But maybe I did.”
He grabbed my hands and squeezed, staring deep into my eyes. “You. Did. Nothing. Wrong.”
I blinked, my eyes filling with tears again.
“You did nothing wrong.”
“But.” The tears were falling now, rolling straight down my cheeks. God, this was so embarrassing.
“Stop that.” The sharpness of his tone startled me. “He treated you like garbage. That is not your fault. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
I blinked at him, sniffling. If only it were that easy. That simple.
“Say it.”
Before I knew what was happening, he was standing and pulling me to my feet. He scooped up Tess and situated her on his hip.
“I’m serious. The way we speak to ourselves matters. If you’re walking around thinking you deserved to be treated so badly or that you caused it in some way, then I’ll make it my mission to correct you. Because you’re dead fucking wrong.”
The gesture was thoughtful, but the situation went far beyond the cheating.
My parents and their expectations of me complicated matters exponentially.
Not to mention my strained relationships with my sisters and the belief I once held that marriage was the be-all and end-all.
That I’d found my person and would be happy and loved and accepted forever.
“Say it. Out loud and in your own head. You did nothing wrong.”
Logically, I knew I wasn’t at fault. Being na?ve wasn’t a crime.
Neither was giving away trust so easily.
But the stigma that came with a failed marriage by my early thirties was like a sin I’d carry with me forever.
Being cheated on so many times, so brazenly, was like a tattoo on my heart, permanent and painful.
“I did nothing wrong,” I said softly.
“You can do better than that.”
“Ick-Ick,” Tess said, scone crumbs in her eyebrows and down the front of her jacket.
“Shout it,” Noah commanded.
“I did nothing wrong,” I said louder, though not at full volume. It was too peaceful out here to be so disruptive.
“A little better. Walk up there.” He pointed at the path that led to the falls. “Scream it. Scream whatever you want. Let it out. You can’t carry all this shit around with you forever.”
The lump in my throat grew once more, making it hard to swallow.
With one expectant brow raised, he put his free hand on my shoulder.
He stood so close, his chest almost touched mine when he inhaled. His warmth seeped into me, chasing away the sadness and bringing with it a new sensation.
His proximity awakened my body. His masculine scent lit a low flame deep inside me. The weight of his large hand grounded me.
“Shout,” he commanded.
With a deep breath in, I willed my pounding heart not to leap out of my chest. Then I spun and strode toward the rushing water, focusing on the sound and only stopping when I could feel the mist on my face.
“I did nothing wrong!” I shouted as loud as I could. “I didn’t deserve it.”
The tears fell again, mixing with the mist coating my skin. But it felt good. Therapeutic. The cold air in my lungs, the icy mist on my face. Staring down nature and letting loose.
“I hate the way he made me feel,” I yelled. “I hate what he did to me.”
I sucked in a harsh breath, energized.
“I did nothing wrong,” I screamed with all my might, my voice drowned by the pounding of the water against the rocks.
For a long moment, I stood in that place, catching my breath. When the tears had stopped, I carefully made my way back to where Noah was standing with Tess.
He was beaming. “That’s my girl,” he said softly as I approached.
My heart clenched at the sentiment, but I was too raw to linger on the meaning of that response.
Wiping at my cheeks, I went back to where we’d set up our picnic and picked up a scone for myself. For a while, we ate and played with Tess, supervising her as she crawled around on the rocks. By the time we began the hike back to the car, I felt lighter and exhilarated.