What He Doesn't Know (What He Doesn't Know Duet, #1)

by Kandi Steiner

I knew my wife was cheating on me. I’d known for longer than I’d admit — to her or to myself. Maybe it was because I should have seen it coming. I should have known it the first night I’d met the man who would steal her away from me. It was me, after all, who had shown my wife the dance, the moves, the steps and turns of infidelity. It was me who’d betrayed her first. And it was my fault she was in his bed right now. I rarely drank, but it seemed like the right thing to do as I ordered my third scotch of the night at a bar not five minutes from our home.

She smiled again, this time tapping her knuckles on the bar. “I’ll grab it for you now.” I sipped the amber liquid she’d just poured, letting it take me back into the spiral of doubt, the spiral of truth. It’d been too long that I’d ignored it, too long that I’d let myself pretend everything was okay. I hadn’t been a good husband. I’d buried myself in work to try to forget about our boys instead of remembering them the way I should have. In turn, I’d found myself with more responsibilities at work than ever before, simply because I never said no. I’d left my wife at home to grieve alone, without her partner, without the one who loves her more than anyone. I’d been forgetful and selfish. And now, she’d found comfort in someone who gave her what I used to.

“What?” “That’s how long he’s been back in your life, right?” he probed, jaw clenched. “That’s how long it took you to realize that you love him, that you don’t want to be my wife anymore, that you want to turn your back on everything we’ve built, on everything we’ve been through, to be with him?” I just stared at him, mouth open to fight back, but I didn’t have words. “The least you can do is give me a fair playing field,” he continued, and he straightened his shoulders with his next request. “Give me two months.” I scoffed, pacing the room, my eyes flicking from the cage to the window to him and back again. “You’re kidding, right? There’s nothing you can do, Cameron. You’ve had the past five years,” I reminded him. “Five years since we lost our sons. Five years since you turned your back on me and left me alone in this marriage. What could you possibly do to change my mind now?” “Two months, Charlie.”

“I just don’t understand,” I cried. “Nothing makes sense. Why now? Why did it take losing me for you to care?” My hands fell to my side, exasperated, and I met his eyes with my own. Emotion tore through me like a razor blade to a healing wound, and I didn’t bother fighting against the tears anymore as I begged my husband for mercy. “You waited too long,” I croaked. “And now, it’s too late. You don’t even love me, Cameron. You haven’t for years. You know you don’t love me anymore. Why can’t you let me go?” I choked on another sob, shaking my head as my vision blurred. “Please, please, just let me go.” I broke in the middle of our bedroom. My shoulders caved, knees giving out next, and I reached blindly for our bedpost to keep me standing upright as I succumbed to the flood of emotions soaring through me.

They say there are two sides to every story, and it was in that moment, in that dark, desperate snapshot of my life that I realized I hadn’t asked him for his.