The man you married looks tired, annoyed, and faintly embarrassed, which is somehow more offensive than if he looked ashamed. Shame might at least acknowledge the existence of moral damage. Annoyance only reveals inconvenience.
“No,” you say. “You don’t want a fight. You wanted a smooth transfer. You wanted to sit here with your parents, your siblings, and your pregnant mistress and convince me that the polite thing to do would be to quietly disappear from my own life so you could start your next one in comfort.”
His jaw tightens.
“That’s not fair.”
Fair.
Voir la suite sur la page suivante:
