Page 99 of The Affair
“But we weren’t,” I reminded him. “You broke my heart.”
“And for that, I’ll never forgive myself, but you’ve got to understand something. Sawyer has bided his time, patiently waiting for his moment to strike. You can’t trust him.”
“You think this is about you?” Sawyer’s voice boomed behind me. He’d come through the back again, and I’d been too wrapped up in Reed’s revelation to notice. “You think this whole time, I’ve been plotting some ridiculous scheme to get back at you for something that happened twenty years ago?”
“Why else would you go after my wife?” Reed fired back.
“She’s not your wife, asshole.”
“No thanks to you!”
My eyes darted back and forth between the two brothers, as I was unsure of who to believe.
“Who do you think took me to that bar, Elle?”
“I didn’t tell you to fuck the waitress,” Sawyer raged.
“Yeah, but you didn’t stop me either. You knew what would happen, and you let it, knowing full well you’d be able to swoop in and steal my life.”
“I didn’t steal your life. You tossed it in the trash all by yourself.”
“You took him to the bar that night?” It was the first thing I’d said in what felt like decades.
The two were in a heated battle, and I felt like an outsider, watching the bombs explode.
“Yes,” Sawyer answered. “I knew he was struggling with your father’s cancer diagnosis. I tried to help take his mind off it.”
“And you never thought to tell me?”
Reed’s expression turned upward, like he’d just been vindicated of his crimes.
“I—”
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
His silence answered for him. Watching his face fall in shame, I wondered how many other things he’d planned on keeping to himself.
“I need to be alone right now.”
Both men tried to step forward, but I held out a wary hand. “Go. Please.”
For once, they both did as I’d asked, and soon, I was granted my wish.
I was alone.
Maybe that was how I was always meant to be.
* * *
Today is Christmas Eve.
I used to love this time of year. When the children were young, I’d plan out the entire week leading up to Christmas Day. Every dish was prepped and planned. I’d bake endlessly, trying to make sure everyone’s favorites were accounted for.
It was wonderful.
But then the girls grew up, and things changed.
Mary had her own family and started her own traditions, and soon, the magic of the season seemed to dwindle.
