interested in what I’d done than in his own betrayal. My legs felt unsteady, and I sank onto the mattress.
“You know what’s interesting?”
He remained silent as I explained the months spent doubting my own instincts.
“I spent months wondering whether I was becoming paranoid. I wondered if I was jealous. Possessive. Insecure.”
“I would see you standing beside her and tell myself there was probably a business reason. I watched you laugh with her in ways you stopped laughing with me. I watched her know things about your
