Andrew leaves out the back door, marching toward the guesthouse, and I give him the distance he needs. Everything makes sense now. The hot and cold. The rough sex. The extremes our relationship has endured. He was hurt. He was in pain. And I did that to him. All this time, he knew. All this time, he still loved me. All this time, never once did he want to let me go. Harris was wrong. Andrew genuinely loves me. And if I’m lucky, our marriage can survive this. I can survive this.
