Chapter 2 - Pain with No Edges
Sarah's POV
I stood there in his arms, his heartbeat a steady thrum against my spine. It would be so easy to fall again, to let his voice and his certainty drown out the noise in my head.
But the noise never stopped.
Had he held Lily this way? Whispered into her skin, traced her with the same patience? Was Lily the reason his hands knew exactly how to melt me?
The thought burned. I turned in his arms, and his mouth caught mine before I could pull away. The kiss was deep, sure, the kind of kiss that pulled years of memories to the surface. I clutched his shirt, dragging him closer until I thought my heart would break free and swallow us whole.
He pulled away just enough to breathe against my lips. “I’m done asking permission to love you.”
Something inside my brain pulled tight. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to forget everything.
But the question was already clawing its way up.
“Did you kiss her like this?” The words came out harshly.
Matt froze. His eyes searched mine, confusion giving way to something heavier.
“Tell me, Matt. Did you touch her the way you touch me? Did you make her moan the way you make me?”
His expression fractured. He stepped back an inch, and I felt the loss instantly. “Sarah… don’t do this."
I heard the plea in his voice, but I couldn't stop tearing holes in the fragile peace between us. If he told me, I'd finally know. If he didn’t, would I ever trust him again?
“I need to know,” I whispered. “Every time you touch me, I wonder. Was it the same with her? Was it better?”
He shook his head slowly, as if my words were dragging him under. “I will not give you details that poison us both. I’ve told you the truth. I regret her. I regret everything about it. I love you. That has to be enough.”
I wanted to scream that it wasn’t enough, yet every nerve in my body ached to collapse into him and let it be everything.
The fire crackled in the hearth, a sharp break in the silence that swelled around us.
I loved him. God, I loved him. But love was not trust. And tonight, love was not enough.
“I can’t, Matt.” Tears welled in my eyes.
“It’s all I think about. The faces you make when you come.
You touching her, your hands all over her body.
All of that… for her. It was mine. Unadulterated, until it wasn’t.
I feel like a fool. Was I foolish to believe you would be faithful? I feel stupid, Matt.”
He stared at me, speechless.
“Baby…” He reached for me, but I stepped back.
“Did you call her that? Baby? You practically lived with her, Matt.”
“Sarah, stop! What are you doing? Why are you doing this?” He closed the space between us and caught my arms.
I jerked away, eyes blazing through tears. “Did you fuck her pretty mouth, Matt?”
He recoiled. “Sarah!”
“Tell me!” My voice echoed through the room.
His shoulders sagged, the fight draining from his posture. “We did everything, Sarah. All of it. You’re right. I stayed with her after you kicked me out. We did everything. Is that what you want to hear?” His voice broke, rough and raw. “Is that what you need to rip me apart with?”
I wanted him to tell me, until he did. Now I wished he had never confessed at all.
Better to be left in the dark, ignorant, none the wiser.
These weren’t the kind of confessions cheating assholes made at kitchen tables.
And yet here I was again, staring at him in pure disbelief that he could do something like this to me.
The fight inside of me wasn't about us anymore. It was about me.
His throat worked, his face pure guilt.
“How does it feel,” I whispered, intent on trapping him in this very moment, “to picture yourself between her legs, to remember eating her out, fucking her ass, while you stand here looking at your wife? How does it feel to say it out loud, Matt, while our kids are asleep upstairs?”
The silence between us was a scream. The fire hissed, the clock ticked, and Matt’s chest heaved like he’d been hit.
“Enough,” he said hoarsely, but it was too late. The words were out. The wound was wide open.
“I can’t be with you and not see her in your hands,” I said, my voice trembling. “It rules my thoughts. We won’t work, Matt. The damage is too much.”
I shook my head hard, tears brimming, my words breaking between breaths. “I don’t think we will ever be good again.”
Matt began to pace, running a hand through his hair. “Sarah… what was last night about, then? Today? I thought you wanted to try.”
I turned away from him, arms crossed like a shield.
“I admit, I’m confused. There are moments when I think we can move forward.
But then I look at you and remember. You are the reminder, Matt.
You have proven yourself capable of betrayal.
How do I look past that? How do I pretend it never happened? ”
A small voice cut through the tension.
At the top of the stairs stood Emily, clutching her stuffed unicorn, eyes wide and wet. My world narrowed to that one small face.
“Oh, baby…” My voice broke as I opened my arms. Emily hurried down the steps and collapsed against me, small arms wrapping tight around my waist.
Matt stepped closer, crouching beside us. “It’s okay, Em.” His hand smoothed over her back.
Emily pulled back just enough to look at him. “Daddy’s crying too.”
I turned, startled. Matt’s eyes were red, tears running unchecked down his face.
“We’re okay,” he said softly, voice catching. He kissed the top of Emily’s head. “Let’s get you back to bed, sweetheart.”
Emily clung tighter to me. “Promise?”
I stroked her hair, swallowing my own lump of guilt. “Promise.”
Even though I knew in that moment, we would never be okay again. The promise sat heavy in the air, unfinished, stretched between all three of us.
I stood with Emily in my arms. Only then did I realize I was still holding Lily’s Post-it note. I turned, pressed it into Matt’s hand.
Matt stared at it for a beat before crumpling it tight. He crossed to the fire and tossed it into the flames. Then he disappeared into the bathroom, shut the door, and turned the lock.
Upstairs, I tucked Emily in, smoothing her hair until her breathing evened out. When I came back down, I stopped at the sound of Matt crying on the other side of the bathroom door. My own tears rose hot and helpless. I grabbed his clean shirt from the arm of the couch and wiped my face with it.
This was the hardest moment of my life. Pain with no edges. Pain with no end in sight.
Matt eventually came out of the bathroom, eyes red, face pale. He spotted me in the living room, holding his clean shirt. For a moment, he only stood there, hollow and exhausted, then reached for it.
“I forgot you brought that down,” he said, voice hoarse. “Mine’s still a mess from the water guns.”
I hesitated, then pulled it back just slightly, my lips bending into the faintest, weary smile. “Sorry. I used it to wipe my face. My… tears are all over it.”
Matt glanced down at the damp, stained T-shirt he wore, then tugged it over his head in one rough motion. He let it drop onto the couch, the smell of smoke and marshmallow clinging to the fabric.
He took the shirt from me; his hand lingered on the fabric before he slipped it over his shoulders, as if he were putting on my grief, wearing it like a scarlet letter.
The quiet stretched, heavy and unsparing. Matt rubbed the bridge of his nose, eyes shining again. “I think I’ll take the couch tonight. You should sleep upstairs.”
I nodded slowly. “That’s probably best.”
We stood there a moment longer, two people who wanted to reach across the space but couldn’t. Finally, I turned toward the stairs. “Goodnight, Matt.”
His reply came low, ragged. “Goodnight, Sarah.”
I climbed the steps, forcing my feet forward. In my room, I slipped beneath the covers, the house unnervingly quiet.
Here we were, in separate rooms, teary-eyed and restless, the echoes of our fight still pressing against the walls. Sleep came late, uneven, and unforgiving, carrying me into the next morning, where I woke empty. Why does emptiness feel so heavy?