Page 110 of His Secret

“Well, that’s how it sounds. I’m supposed to be here for you when you need me and want me, but my needs and wants don’t matter.”

Her mouth drops open. “What are you talking about?”

I get out of the bed, taking my phone off the nightstand.

“Just forget it.”

“Where are you going?”

“Downstairs.”

“Good. Thanks for thewonderfuldate night. It’s been a blast,” she says sarcastically.

I stop at the closet for an extra blanket. “Yep. Definitely.”

“You know, people cheat on their spouses when they’re not happy,” she says.

I freeze, turning to look at her. She stares back at me, unflinching.

It’s a threat. She’s trying to scare me into thinking that’s what she’d do, but all she’s done is uttered a statement that rings true to me.

I know people cheat for different reasons or for no reason. It’s never justified, but in this case, it feels like she’s exactly right.

I’m not happy. Haven’t been happy in a long time. And look at what I’m doing. I’m finding that happiness somewhere else. But it’s not because I’m bored, or another girl is giving me attention I don’t think I get at home. It’s not because I need my ego stroked and my wife doesn’t do it for me. It’s not because I have to go out and see ifI still got it.

Matías is the one person I’ve ever felt true happiness around. Who I’ve been my true authentic self with. No fear. No stress. No discomfort.

I’m with him now because it feels like it’s the one thing keeping me from doing a deep dive into depression. He’s keeping me afloat in a situation where I’ve always felt like I’m drowning.

I don’t reply to her. I simply walk out of the room.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

ADRIAN

We don’t keepalcohol in the house, but I could go for a drink right about now. I pace through the living room, then make my way into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

For nearly thirty minutes, I wear paths into the floor, unable to sit still.

When my phone vibrates, I pick it up off the couch where I tossed it and look at the screen. There are two messages from Matías. One from forty minutes ago, and another just now.

I’m about to go into my office, which is downstairs and at the back of the house. Are you able to sneak out?

I’m assuming not. I’ll see you tomorrow then.

I quickly type backa response.

Sorry. I’m still up.

Oh okay.

Your office?

There’s a window. You said you wanted to watch.

I glance toward the stairs. It’s too risky. She might still be awake, and even if she isn’t, she could come downstairs at some point.

However, something about Charlotte is that she’s stubborn as hell. She won’t be quick to apologize, and she’ll thrive while giving me the silent treatment.