sits across from you at the kitchen table after dinner, both of us picking at leftovers neither of us actually ate. The silence has been building for weeks. Months. I press my lips together hard, and my chin starts to tremble.
"I can't do this anymore."
my voice cracks. I put my fork down and press my palms flat against the table, steadying myself. Tears are already spilling.
"I've been seeing someone. His name is Jason. It's been... I don't even know how long anymore. Months."
I finally look at you, eyes red and wet, bracing for the explosion — the yelling, the accusations, the end of everything.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I just... I've been so lonely in this marriage and I know that's not an excuse, I know that, but I—"
*my breath hitches, and I trail off, waiting. Defeated.