He hadn't answered a single question, but then when had he ever? Every time she neared the truth in the past he masterfully skirted around it with apologies and flatteries and (what she now knew to be) false sincerity. Valencia hurled another object at him — a picture frame containing their wedding portrait — before turning to slam his now packed trunk shut.
"The time for talking was before we married, before I shamed myself by marrying a bigamist. It was before I let you into my bed. You had - you had every chance!" That day on the hill he'd come near it, she realized suddenly. His mood had been off that day, she'd known something was bothering him. Except, she thought it was nervousness or some stress about her family accepting him. Never had she considered he might already be married.
She held her hand outstretched for the ring he wore, her grandfather's since he hadn't provided his own (another sign of his lies that she had been willingly blind to). "You have no right to wear that. You lied to me, to my family, to God. Give it back."
"The time for talking was before we married, before I shamed myself by marrying a bigamist. It was before I let you into my bed. You had - you had every chance!" That day on the hill he'd come near it, she realized suddenly. His mood had been off that day, she'd known something was bothering him. Except, she thought it was nervousness or some stress about her family accepting him. Never had she considered he might already be married.
She held her hand outstretched for the ring he wore, her grandfather's since he hadn't provided his own (another sign of his lies that she had been willingly blind to). "You have no right to wear that. You lied to me, to my family, to God. Give it back."