Page 165 of EX

He looks tired and confused.

Fuck.

That’s the last thing I wanted to see from him.

He offers to buy me a coffee and I decline.

He then tells me the house is up for sale and there are two offers.

I realize then he wants to give me half of what the house sells for. I’m not sure what I’m actually entitled to or not. I mean, if I was a ruthless evil cunt I could probably get a lawyer and go after him even though I was the one who had an affair.

I don’t want anything from Chad.

He served his purpose in my life.

I tell him the truth.

The actual truth.

Chad, you need to hear this from me and know this is the absolute truth.

I loved you but never in the way you loved me. You may feel like I used you, and maybe I did, but we both served a purpose to one another. The problem was that the purpose grew and went in a direction I did not see coming. You were kind, gentle, and caring. You wanted to provide and just wanted someone to come home to. I was able to play that part but you never played the part I needed. You never heard my requests when it came to my deepest desires. Even if you meant nothing bad by it, you made fun of me for what I desired and that fucked with my heart and head. You never gave me the time of day to explain what it was I wanted and why. You just saw it as something kinky and dirty. Something gross. Then again, maybe that was our fate after all. You were never going to be my husband. I was never going to be your wife.

There’s not a second that goes by that I’m not insanely in love with Corbin.

I’m sorry I hurt you. That’s my biggest regret of it all.

Pain?

Pain is okay.

But hurt… hurt is not okay.

By then I’m starting to cry so I stand up and walk away.

Chad calls my name and I know if I look back he’ll want to have that romantic moment from a movie where we run at each other and kiss. He’ll then hear me out and next thing I know he’ll be showing me web sites for sex toys and swings and chains and ties and all kinds of stuff.

And while that would be a sweet gesture… it would just prove he still doesn’t get it. And he never will. And that’s okay.

It’s time to move on.

Thursday

I go lookat three apartments and then go back to the hotel room and order a bottle of wine, a pizza, and I cry so hard I throw up in the shower.

Then I drink more wine.

Friday

I get another text.

Corbin’s been sentenced to ten years in prison. Again.

Another ten fucking years.

His lawyer texts me all caps that there are stipulations for him to get out in five years.

His lawyers says there is hope.