Page 41 of One Week
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I slip into something more comfortable, one of my favorite silk nightgowns, the one John really likes. I brush my teeth and my long hair as I ponder how exactly I’m going to go about it. I go over the words I’ll say… this needs to be done perfectly. I need to ace this, or our marriage might just completely fall apart.
I check the clock by my bed before I head down – it’s already one o’clock in the morning.
I pad quietly down the stairs. My pulse races, and my throat is dry. As I carefully open the French door leading to his office, John looks up from his laptop, and seems surprised to see me.
He’s a wreck. His eyes are blood-shot, and he looks like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I was just writing you a letter,” he tells me.
I take a seat next to him. “You don’t need to,” I say quietly.
“I want to.”
Silence fills his den as neither one of us seems to know what to say.
“You look really nice,” he says. “You know how I’ve always loved your hair… I love it when you wear it down.”
I smirk. “Well, Amanda has pretty nice hair too,” I say. “Looks a lot like mine, except for the purple tips, because she’s way cooler than me.”
He lets out a long sigh. “You didn’t… Gabbie, don’t—”
“I know,” I’m quick to say. “I got it out of my system… satisfied my curiosity. I’m not stalking her anymore.”
“Good,” he says. “I’m also working on a letter for her,” he tells me. “You can read it if you…” his words trail off. He’s ashamed. He’s ashamed of what he’s done. “I’ll also give you full access to all my social media accounts, my phone, my email… everything.”
I clear my throat. That’s some serious stuff.
“I mean it, Gabbie,” he says. “It’s over. I’m an open book from here on, and I want you to have faith in me. No more events for the next year, and if there are events in the future, you can come with me. My parents can look after the kids.”
He’s trying really hard, and I do appreciate it. But… he doesn’t get to just have his jollies, and everything goes back to normal. He doesn’t get to have his cake and eat it too.
He needs to pay.
“Yes, John,” I start slowly. “I appreciate that—”
He cuts me off. “So you think we can get past this?” he asks eagerly. “Can you forgive me?”
I wince. “Well, not so quickly,” I tell him. “I do appreciate you telling me the truth and not trying to deny the affair, so you definitely get points for that,” I tell him. “And I also appreciate you trying so hard right now, but…”
His face falls, and he looks so vulnerable, like his life hangs on my words, which it sort of does, in a way. The kids and I are the most important thing in his life. I still believe that.
“How long has this affair been going on?” I ask, “I mean, since the first time you’ve slept together.”
He stills for a few seconds. “Almost five months,” he finally says.
“Five months.”
“Yes, five months,” he says. “Since October.”
I draw a breath, determined to keep my composure. “So you’ve been cheating on me for five months, lying to me, spending time away from your family to be with her, and you think that I should just simply forgive you? That there should be no consequences?”
He’s speechless.
“There will be consequences,” I start. My words are even and business-like — it’s like I’m heading a board meeting. I’m the one with all the power. I’m in charge, and I make the decisions. “I like your plan,” I continue, and he listens quietly. “You end this with her. And no more events without me, and complete access to all your communications.”
He nods obediently, like a dog. He thinks this is where it ends, but he hasn’t seen anything yet.
“You’ll move to the guest room for the time being, and slowly, we’ll see.”
