“How could you?” My body sways as my knees start to give. “Why? Why’d you do this to us?”
He holds me close and I momentarily melt into the familiar warmth of his body.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It meant nothing to me, Lindsey. I swear!” His cheek brushes against my hair and he kisses the top of my head. “It’s not an excuse, but it was simply drunken stupidity. Tell me how we can put it behind us and move on.”
“What?” I push away from him again, my mouth agape. “Put it behind us? This isn’t something to sweep under the carpet. You risked our relationship and our health. If the tables were turned, you’d never forgive and forget.”
His face blanches at the mere suggestion of my infidelity, but he recovers and considers my accusation. “You’re upset, which you have every right to be. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’ve been sorry for weeks. Frankly, I’m relieved to have told the truth before we’re married. Look at me—this will never happen again!”
In this instant, I don’t recognize him or myself. My ears throb. I’m acutely aware of each heartbeat hammering in my chest, while my lungs search for air. Turning away, I draw a slow breath through my nose to steady my thoughts. A moment later, I force myself to face him.
I summon my strength and hide the depth of my heartache. “You bet it won’t happen again. The wedding is off, Rob.” My lips begin to quiver and tears mount in my eyes.
“Don’t say that, Linds. Come on. I know I screwed up, but I haven’t habitually betrayed you. I’ve loved you for years. I’m committed to being a partner and husband you can count on. For better or worse, that’s the deal. This is my worst.” When I don’t respond, he applies guilt. “Don’t break my heart, baby. I need you.”
I recognize these moves. He’s angling to win this argument. Smooth, savvy, and a great manipulator. Qualities that propelled his meteoric rise at work. I’ve been trained to respect these traits in a man, but suddenly, they seem vile and repulsive. The chiseled features I’d always found so handsome now appear hollow and grotesque. The worst, however, is his condescension—assured I’ll forgive him as long as he begs. Misreading my silence as acquiescence, he moves to hug me. His contact awakens me from my trance and I bat at his arms.
Backing away, I whisper, “You can’t love me. You don’t know me at all.”
“That’s completely untrue.” He spreads his arms wide, palms up. “I know you better than anyone.”
“If you expect I’ll marry you on schedule, after you betrayed me, then you don’t know me.” Despite feeling shaky, I continue, “And I don’t know you, either. All I know now is I don’t trust you.”
Worry flickers across his face. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. You’re the perfect girl for me.” He slumps into the chair, studying me mournfully. “Please don’t throw everything away two weeks before the wedding. Let’s take the weekend to get some perspective. I believe in us. We can work through this together and be stronger.”
Only two weeks until our wedding. What do I do about the guests, the gifts, all the plans . . . and the whispered rumors sure to follow a last-minute cancellation? I grab my stomach and ease back down onto the bed. Overcome with emotion, I refuse to meet his gaze. I’m conscious of his eyes searching out mine, waiting for me to speak.
Rob’s phone rings, disturbing the heavy silence sitting between us. Of course, he answers it. Judging from his terse replies and his fingers rubbing his temples, I know he’ll be returning to work. When he finishes the call, he turns to me and bites his lower lip.
“I’ve got to get back to the office to nail down a merger issue before we take off for Bermuda tonight,” he says through a false smile. He sits beside me and rests his hand on my thigh, eliciting no response from me. “Lindsey, let’s take the trip. We’ll use the time to talk all of this through. Meet me at the airport?”
I view him as though he’s one thousand miles away and hear myself say, “I need to call the doctor now.”
“I love you.” Apparently unwilling to risk probing me further, he takes his suitcase in his hand and kisses my forehead. “I’ll meet you at the airport in a few hours and we’ll work this all out. I’ll do whatever you need me to do. I’m really sorry.”
Despite my silence, the significance of his confession, and the fact that our future hangs in the balance, duty calls. Work has always been his first love and priority, so I’m not surprised when he leaves. Once the apartment door closes, I allow myself the freedom to cry out loud.