Margaret’s hand stilled for a moment, then resumed its motion. “You’re doing what’s right.”
“For you,” he said quietly.
Her voice sharpened just a fraction. “Don’t start that again.”
“I have a wife,” Ryan said, his voice breaking. “A real one. I can’t keep pretending she’s just… temporary.”
My breath caught.
Temporary?
The word echoed in my mind like a crack in glass.
Margaret leaned closer. “You made a promise.”
“I was seventeen,” Ryan replied. “You were all I had. But things are different now.”
“No,” she said, firm and controlled. “You think they are. But they’re not.”
I stepped back, my heart pounding so loudly I thought they might hear it through the walls. My mind scrambled to make sense of what I had just witnessed.
A promise?
Pretending?
Temporary?
Nothing about that was normal.
I didn’t sleep that night.
I lay in bed beside Ryan, staring at the ceiling, listening to his steady breathing, wondering how someone I loved so deeply could suddenly feel like a stranger.
The next morning, everything looked the same.
But nothing felt the same.
Ryan kissed my forehead before leaving for work. “You okay?” he asked, studying my face.
“Just tired,” I said.
He smiled—but it didn’t reach his eyes.