“I left, Gabe. I couldn’t do it. I left to come home.” My bottom lip trembles.

“Did you fuck him?” The accusation comes out of his mouth like venom filled with anger and resentment.

I stand there stunned.

“Did. You. Fuck. Him?” His jaw is clenched, eyes burning with rage.

With my head lowered, I answer the only way I can.

“Yes.”

“AHHH!” Gabriel screams.

Rising from the chair, he throws his glass toward the wall. I jump and step back, afraid for what his next reaction might be. Not that I’d blame him. Gabriel turns his body away from me. His hands are on his hips. His body grows frigid, his back muscles tighten, and I can see his rage building.

He turns suddenly and looks at me with fresh tears in his eyes.

“You whore!” he screams.

Air leaves my body, and I struggle to breath. I have never seen such hate in his eyes. He called me a whore. Isn’t that what I am?

Wait a minute. Doesn’t it take two to tango?

My jaw sets into a quivering mess of rage. My fists ball up to my sides. How dare he treat me like this when I, at least, had the decency to wait to talk to him about his own indiscretions?

“You hypocrite!” I cry.

His eyes look at me in astonished confusion.

“Don’t you pretend you had nothing to do with this.” I point my finger violently at him. “Don’t tell me there is nothing going on between you and that tart in the park. What’s her name…? Becca!”

Gabriel’s jaw drops with amber liquid wet on his lips. “Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell does Becca have to do with any of this?”

“I heard her, Gabe. I heard her talking about you!” Finally, I’m letting it out. “And I found her panties. You asshole. I found her underwear in the car!” My eyes well up with tears. Saying it out loud makes it so real.

“What are you talking about? Why would Becca’s underwear be in our car?” He’s trying to control his breath.

“Well, if they’re not hers, then whose are they?” The thought frightens me. How much do I not know? “Who are you fucking, Gabriel?”

He looks at me with clarity. His eyes widen in a stunned expression. “Is that why you did this? Did you throw away our marriage because you think I’m having an affair?” He covers his mouth with his hand. “Is that what this is about, Kat? An eye for an eye?” He lowers his hand. “Would you really throw away almost ten years because you think I cheated?”

It’s a statement more than a question. Have I been wrong this entire time?

No. I’m not wrong. I know what I found.

“Don’t make me feel crazy, Gabriel. Whose underwear did I find?” It’s a simple question.

Staring at me, his eyes search mine for something. An answer? A reason? I don’t know.

His lean, strong frame looks downtrodden. From his perfectly straight nose to the cheekbones that make him one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen, only sad features mask his melancholy face.

I stare back at him and wait for him to do something. His jaw remains clenched and his eyes grow redder as they continue to glower back at me.

“Good-bye, Kathryn,” Gabriel says, turning to the left and walking out our bedroom door. He slams the door behind him as he leaves down the hall, down the stairs, out the front door, and out of my life.

I sit on the bed and grab the house phone. Reluctantly, I make the call and have the conversation I’ve been dreading for days. Gwen promises to have Jackson here first thing in the morning.

I wake not knowing what day or time it is. Hell, I don’t really know where I am.

I’m home. It’s Sunday. And my husband’s side of the bed is empty. Proof my greatest nightmare has become a reality.

Throwing the comforters off my body, I get up and head into the bathroom and run the water. I slept in my suit last night, too intent on crying to change my clothes.

Unbuttoning my shirt, I see my bikini top. I rip it off in haste, desperate to wipe away my sins. I do the same with my skirt and bikini bottom. If I could, I’d burn them.

Stepping into the shower, I let the hot water wash away all traces of Asher from my body. The way he kissed me, caressed me, all the memories. Taking the loofah, I scrub my body raw.

It’s no use. I can sanitize my skin, but I can’t erase his touch or, more importantly, his words.

“I. Want. You. Kathryn. I want you. I want you. I want you!”

Get out of my head, Asher!

“Fuck it… I need you.”

Please. Stop.

“What you’ve done to me in the last few weeks has been amazing… You make me thirsty for more. And I’m not ready to give that up.”

His words are still sweet in my head.

“If you walk out that door, it’s over between us. I know it.”

I walked out on Asher. And Gabriel walked out on me.

As promised, Gwen pulls up bright and early with my sweet angel in tow. And in a very un-Gwen fashion, she doesn’t say a word. I’m grateful for the silence.

Jackson and I spend the morning playing with his shape sorter. I try to teach him the different colors and shapes and how each one fits in a very special tiny hole designed just for it. The point is lost on his little mind, and all he wants to do is eat the blue circle shape.

Jackson has enough of the shapes and takes off for the couch. His chubby little legs crawl across the room, and he uses the cushions to raise himself up in a standing position. He must be very proud of himself because he looks behind him and sends me a beaming smile. I clap my hands and applaud for him. He claps as well.

I take a few of his shapes and place them on the edge of the couch, forcing him to cruise along the length of the couch. He does it like a pro. He should. He’s been practicing this little trick for weeks. I clap for him again and he claps back.

Just when I think he’s done with his tricks for the day, he brazenly turns around and stands freely with his weight against the couch. I’m surprised by his ability. I clap once again, but this time, Jackson doesn’t clap back.

With determined eyes, he heads toward me. His hands up in the air, he takes a small wobbling step toward me and braces his weight midair. I put my hands out in an attempt to catch him if he falls. I’m close but far enough for him to walk to me.

“Come on, Jackson, walk to Mama.” My arms are spread out, and I encourage my angel to walk forward. Jackson takes another wobbling step with his other foot and follows it with a quick step with the other before crashing into my arms.

“You did it!” I beam, kissing him all over his face. “You walked to Mommy!”

For the first time in a while, I cry not of sadness or irritation. No, these are happy tears. I am exactly where I’m supposed to be.

After the morning’s excitement, Jackson is ready for a nap. I lay him upstairs in his crib and grab the monitor before coming downstairs. He should get at least two hours of sleep.

Entering the kitchen, I see Gwen standing at the counter, pouring two cups of coffee. I knew her silence would only last so long. And it’s time for me to stop being such a chicken shit.

Gwen leaves one cup on the counter and picks up the other, carrying it into the living room. I could have sworn she would have wanted a heart to heart at the kitchen table. I watch her take a seat on the sofa and pick up a magazine, casually reading it while sipping her coffee.

I grab the other cup and contemplate taking it to my room before following her into the living room. I take a seat on the couch opposite her and take a sip.

Gwen is sitting with her legs crossed and the magazine loosely lying open on her leg. She looks disinterested in engaging in a conversation with me. The silence is making me uncomfortable.