“The whole reason I’m married to her,” he said, completely oblivious to the knife he was slamming through my gut and heart, “is because she had the balls to make the moves on me.”
He is referring to the last woman he had an affair with while we were married. He is referring to the woman he introduced to his family before we were even separated. He is referring to the third woman whom he got pregnant (and the only one successful in retaining the pregnancy) while we were married. He is referring to the woman who moved in to my place, used my wedding china and my wedding pots and pans and my entire house of furniture and decorations within two days of me leaving him.
He is married to her because she had the balls to make the moves. She had the balls to make the moves.
Why did that hurt so damn bad? Why am I sobbing and feeling as though I have died inside? Why did it feel like it cut right through the center of me and out the back, ripping all of my insides out with it? Why do I want to scream? Why am I crying? Why, after all this fucking time, WHY did that fucking piece of information hurt so goddamn much?
See… told you! Just had to give me a bit before the posts would become so not “light and lovey”…
