Page 70 of After Everything
"Yes," I said. My first word since he'd started. "You did."
He nodded. "I know."
"Is that why you're sorry?" The question came out sharper than I intended. "Because you lost everything? Because it didn't work out the way you wanted?"
"No." He didn't hesitate. "I'm sorry because I hurt you. Because I see now—really see—what I did to you. Not just the affair. Everything. The years of putting my career first. Making you feel like you were less important than my work. Taking everything you gave and never appreciating it until it was gone." He paused. "Losing the partnership, losing Sarah, losing my job… that was just karma. Justice. Whatever you want to call it. But losing you..." His voice cracked slightly. "That's the only thing I actually regret."
I looked at him. Really looked at him. The man sitting across from me wasn't theDavid I'd married. Wasn't even the David who'd stood in our living room three years ago trying to minimize what he'd done.
This was someone who'd been hollowed out and rebuilt. Someone who'd done the work.
It didn't change what he'd done. Didn't erase the betrayal or the pain or the years I'd spent putting myself back together.
But it meant something.
"I don't know what to say," I admitted quietly.
"You don't have to say anything." David's hands were still flat on the table, like he was anchoring himself. "I didn't ask you here for forgiveness or absolution or anything from you. I just... I needed you to hear it. From me. Not through lawyers or mediators or professional emails about cases." He took a shaky breath. "I needed you to know that I'm sorry. And that I understand what I destroyed."
Silence settled between us. Not comfortable, but not hostile either. Just space.
I looked at my hands. At the table. At the other people in the coffee shop living theirnormal Saturday mornings, oblivious to the fact that I was sitting three feet away from the man who'd shattered my entire world.
"Do you know what the worst part was?" I said finally.
David looked up.
"It wasn't finding the messages. Or the photos. Or even the lying." I met his eyes. "It was realizing that while I was working twelve-hour shifts, coming home exhausted, making you dinner that you wouldn't eat because you were 'working late'... you were with her. And I was so stupid, so trusting, that I actually believed you."
"You weren't stupid?—"
"Yes, I was." My voice was sharper now. "I was an ICU nurse. I was trained to spot the signs when something's wrong. And I missed every single one because I trusted you. Because I thought we were building something together."
David didn't argue. Just listened.
"I gave up med school," I continued. "I know you said that already, but I don't think you understand what that meant. I got into Penn back then. Full scholarship. My dreamschool, my dream program. And I turned it down because you got that job offer in the city and we decided…" I stopped, corrected myself. "No. I decided. I decided that your career mattered more. That we'd have time for me to go back to school later. That being supportive was what a good partner did."
"Emma—"
"I'm not done." The words came out harder than I intended, but I didn't soften them. "Eight years. I spent eight years putting you first. Your career, your stress, your partnership track. And I told myself it was fine, that we were a team, that eventually it would be my turn." I paused. "And then I found out you'd been fucking Sarah. And I realized there was never going to be a 'my turn.' Because I was never actually your partner. I was just... convenient."
David's face had gone pale. "That's not?—"
"It is, though." I kept my voice level. "I was the supportive wife who worked part-time and kept the house running and never complained when you missed dinner. Again. I was easy. Comfortable. And when you wanted something exciting, somethingnew, you went and found it. And you didn't even have the decency to leave me first."
"You're right." His voice was barely above a whisper.
"I know I'm right." I looked at him directly. "Do you know what happened after you left? After I signed the divorce papers and you were gone?"
He shook his head.
"I fell apart." The admission came easier than I expected. "Completely. Jess slept on my couch for two weeks because I couldn't be alone. I lost fifteen pounds because I forgot how to eat. I'd have panic attacks in the middle of my shifts and have to lock myself in the supply closet until they passed." I paused. "I didn't know who I was without you. Because I'd spent eight years building my entire identity around being your wife, supporting your dreams. And when that was gone, there was just... nothing."
David's eyes were wet. I didn't care.
"But then something happened," I continued. "I started to rebuild. Not as your wife, not as half of a couple. Just as me. AndI applied to NP school. And I got in. And I worked my ass off for two years while working full time, and I graduated, and I built a career that I'm actually proud of." I leaned forward slightly. "I built a life. Without you. And it's a good life, David. Maybe even better than what we had."
"I'm glad," he said, and he sounded like he meant it. "I'm so glad you did that."
