Because I was terrified. Because filing while you were overseas felt cruel. Because I was ashamed. Because I didn't want to be the person who sent divorce papers to a deployment address.
Because I kept thinking I would tell you on a call and then you would sound exhausted or there would be alarms or someone would walk into your room and I would lose my nerve.” Nathan studied her. “You also kept military health coverage.” Emily flinched.
“Yes.” “And housing.” “Yes.”
“And the mortgage was easier with my pay.” “Yes.” “There it is.”
“That isn't the only reason.” “It doesn't have to be the only reason to matter.” Emily did not argue.
Nathan looked down at the next question in the notebook. He had written it with a hand that shook the previous night. “Did you love Marcus?” Emily closed her eyes.
“Yes.” “Do you?” A long pause.
“I don't know what love means in this situation anymore.” “That is not an answer.” “Yes,” she whispered.
“I love him.” Nathan nodded slowly. There was something almost relieving about hearing it. Painful, yes, but clean.
Marcus was not simply a mistake or an episode. Emily had built another emotional partnership inside their marriage. That distinction mattered because it killed one illusion Nathan had not realized he was still protecting: the possibility that one night of loneliness had become a pregnancy and then a logistical trap. This was a second life.
“What about me?” he asked. Emily met his eyes. “I love you too.”
Nathan leaned back. “No. You love who you were with me. You love the history.