"Without even telling me?"
"You ended our relationship in another country."
Her mouth tightened.
"I made a mistake."
"Yes."
"A huge mistake."
"Yes."
"I was confused."
"No."
That stopped her.
"What?"
"You weren't confused."
"Daniel."
"You'd been talking to Adrian for weeks."
Color drained from her face.
I watched the exact second she realized I knew.
"Who told you?"
"Doesn't matter."
"His wife contacted you."
I didn't answer.
Claire wiped her face.
"You don't understand."
"Then explain."
"He lied to me."
"Yes."
"He told me he was single."
"I know."
"I never would've gotten involved if I'd known."
"Maybe."
"I wouldn't."
"Okay."
She seemed frustrated that I wasn't giving her the argument she needed.
"I was unhappy."
"You could've told me."
"I tried."
"No, you didn't."
"I said we were disconnected."
"And we booked a ten-day vacation specifically to work on it."
She lowered her eyes.
"I didn't know what I wanted."
"You knew enough to tell Adrian we'd already broken up."
Silence.
"You told him I was controlling."
Claire began crying harder.
"I was trying to explain why we were still traveling together."
"So you lied."
"I know."
"You told him we couldn't cancel because we wouldn't get refunds."
She looked at the floor.
"You told me you met him at the pool."
Nothing.
"You planned this before we left."
"I didn't plan everything."
"What part wasn't planned?"
"The feelings."
I almost laughed.
"Claire."
"I screwed up."
"Yes."
"I know."
She grabbed the doorframe.
"I destroyed everything."
I waited.
"I've had the worst week of my life."
"I'm sure."
"The police."
She started speaking faster.
"The hotel. That woman hitting me. Finding out Adrian was married. He disappeared with her afterward. I didn't have anyone."
"You had me."
She stared.
"Before all of that."
I continued.
"You had me before the trip."
Her face collapsed.
"I know."
"No."
My voice remained calm.
"You had four years to tell me you were unhappy enough to leave."
She cried silently.
"You had months to end things before you started talking to him."
"I know."
"You had weeks before the vacation."
"I know."
"You had the airport."
"I know."
"The flight."
"I know."
"The first day."
"Stop."
"You had every opportunity."
"Please stop."
"And you chose the balcony after you thought you had something better."
She covered her face.
For a moment, I felt cruel.
Then I remembered how calmly she'd told me I wasn't exciting.
She lowered her hands.
"I'm sorry."
I believed she was sorry.
That was important.