Page 79 of Sin

Jenna.

My wife.

My fucking ring is still on the nightstand.

The small circle of gold sits there beside Laurel’s phone, a water glass, and the bottle of lube we knocked over sometime around three in the morning when I slid into her again.

Laurel shifts in her sleep, pressing closer to me, and my body reacts before my conscience can stop it. I close my eyes. For one selfish second, I want to kiss her awake. I want to slide my hand over the curve of her hip, drag my mouth down her neck, and hear the sleepy little sound she makes when she realizes it’s me touching her.

But the other side of me knows I can’t.

We’ve already taken things too far. So far I don’t know if there is a way back. But there is still time to stop making it worse. There is still time to put my ring on, put distance between us, and pretend I am the kind of man who can make one mistake and then do the right thing. Save my marriage. Save her. Save whatever is left of me.

So I do the cruel thing.

I carefully untangle myself from Laurel and get out of bed. She stirs but doesn’t wake. Good. If she looks at me right now, I don’t know that I’ll be strong enough to leave. I pick my ring up from the nightstand and stand there for a second, staring at it in my palm. Then I put it back on.

It feels heavier than it did yesterday.

I pad to the bathroom and turn on the shower. I stand beneath the spray and wash her scent from my skin, but it doesn’t matter. She is still everywhere. In my mouth. Behind my eyes. In the part of my chest I thought had gone numb years ago.

By the time I emerge dressed for the day, Laurel is awake. She’s sitting in the bed, the bedding pulled to her chest. Her hair is messy. Her lips are swollen. There’s a faint mark low on her neck where my mouth had no business being. My stomach twists. She looks beautiful.

“We need to talk,” I say.

Her eyes go to my ring then back to my face.

She nods like she was expecting this. Of course she was. Laurel Cross is too smart not to know how this morning would go.

“Last night was…” I shake my head, because I can’t say what it was.

I can’t say it was the best thing I’ve felt in years. I can’t say I woke up with her in my arms and, for one moment, forgot I had ever belonged anywhere else.

“It can never happen again,” I say.

Something flickers across her face. Not surprise, but pain. Then it’s gone.

She dips her head once. “Okay.”

Just that. Okay. No fight. No sarcasm. No sharp little comeback to make this easier. I hate myself for wanting one. It would be easier to do this if I hated her.

“I’ll head down first and give you time to get ready,” I say. “Our meeting is at ten.”

I turn before she can respond.

But then her soft voice stops me.

“Sin.”

My chest tightens.

I glance over my shoulder. “Yes?”

She clutches the sheet tighter, and somehow that hurts more than if she’d thrown something at me.

“I’m sorry.”

The words gut me.