Page 28 of Marriage and the Midlife Crisis

“Oh, shit. What’s wrong?” When I didn’t respond, he asked again, “Mel, are you sick? Is it a migraine? Tell me what’s wrong.”

What’s wrong?

The question almost made me laugh. What isn’t wrong would be a better question, because everything’s wrong.

Every. Fucking. Thing.

I sucked in a quick breath, fully intending to go along with his theory that I was ill. I opened my mouth to say that I didn’t feel well.

What came out instead was four entirely different words.

Four words that I had never dreamed that I would ever say again.

Four words that tore my world apart for the second time in my life.

“I want a divorce.”

This time, they hurt so much more than when I’d hurled them at my first husband. My marriage to Chad had been all but dead by that point, and when I’d screamed those words at him after finding video evidence of his cheating, they’d brought nothing but sheer relief that it was finally going to be over.

Now, though, the words carried an impact that wounded me to my very soul, leaving a gaping hole that left me feeling completely hollow inside.

“What?” Ryan choked out, his tone wavering between confusion and disbelief.

A sense of strength and determination blanketed me, as if saying those words had unlocked a source of power that had been hidden deep inside.

I raised my chin to look him in the eye as I repeated, “I want a divorce.”

He gaped at me, and his expression was filled with utter shock. “Because I went to Las Vegas?” His voice was incredulous, as if the idea that I could be upset about him ditching me for the weekend was absurd.

My eyes narrowed on him, watching him closely for signs of guilt as I snapped, “No, because you went to Las Vegas and cheated on me.”

He blanched, the color leeching from his face as his eyes shifted to the side, then back to me. He shook his head, blinking rapidly, as he searched for a response.

I saw the very second he settled on a bluff. “Cheated? Why the hell would you think that?”

I smiled grimly, pointing at the thong still clutched in his right hand. “It’s not mine, asshole. It belongs to whoever you fucked in Vegas. I found it in your suitcase.”

He lifted his hand, looking at the purple lace as if he had never seen it before and had no idea how he came to be holding it. He threw it across the room as he shook his head again, more frantically this time. Guilt tinged his expression, and I could practically see his mind racing as he tried to come up with a plausible explanation.

“I didn’t cheat, Melanie. I would never do that to you.”

I took a step back as I laughed bitterly. “That’s what I told myself, too. Ryan would never cheat. Except you did, you fucking bastard.”

He reached for me again, and I threw my arms up in automatic defensiveness. I couldn’t bear the thought of his touch.

He reared back, then held up his hands placatingly. His face was still all but devoid of color, and the faint sheen of tears starting to pool in his blue eyes made them stand out in startling contrast against his too-pale skin.

“I didn’t cheat, sweetness. I swear to you, I didn’t,” he pleaded. “Mitch took me to a club Saturday night and there was a stripper who –“.

“A stripper? You fucked a stripper?” The trauma that one word induced was indescribable. When the word “Saturday” registered and I realized that he cheated – with a stripper, no less – on my birthday, an overwhelming rage overrode the pain. “Well, I hope for your sake that you wrapped your shit up.”

He shook his head again, then began pacing in front of me and gesturing wildly. “Look, I know it looks bad, but I would never, ever do that to you.”

I made a show of looking at the thong on the floor where it had landed after he’d thrown it, then looked back at him and fixed him with a pointed stare. Cocking one brow, I asked, “Then explain the dirty thong, that I found in your suitcase, next to your shirt covered in make-up, cheap perfume, and stripper glitter!”

If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought his confusion was genuine as he stared at me in silent shock.

“I hope she was worth it,” I said quietly, scraping the shreds of my dignity together so that I could make my escape without breaking down altogether.