It was not an affair he spoke of. It was a former love. A lost love. It was the sort of love Dionisia had always imagined was in store for her—the kind of match that could not be because of circumstances, because of life. Before Elliot, she had firmly believed that her only beloved would be her job. It was the one part of her life that she could not live without, as evidenced by her obscenely short stint as a housewife. In a way, she could sympathize with him. In another way, it sucked the rest of the hope that remained tucked away in her heart. She listened without speaking, her lips curled into a small, sad smile. One of resignation, but also of understanding.
"I was your last resort," she said through her smile, her words pained. In every sense of the phrase he'd been her last resort, too, so she had no right to be upset with him. "I've never been in love before. I hoped I would be, but—" She let out a shaky breath that nearly turned into a sob in her chest. Ari was a faithful man, one who rarely said anything to her he didn't mean. He was honest, he was good, he was everything she would have said she wanted in a husband five years ago, even if back then she was sure she would never have one at all. She didn't doubt for one second that his love for his mystery woman would ever fade, if only because he'd said so. "I suppose it wasn't meant to be." She chuckled then, allowing herself to relax against the bookshelf behind her.
A few moments passed, and she allowed herself to breath to avoid any unnecessary tears. It was a relief in a way, she tried to tell herself. No longer would she wonder the state of their marriage and what was to come. She would no longer wonder whether they would add another son, or maybe a daughter or two, to their family over the next decade. Elliott would be her only child—his only child. It confused her, but she wouldn't question it. Questioning his love for Elliott would likely pain him more than anything that could be said about their relationship.
"I don't blame you," she said finally, moving her arms across her chest. "You used me. I used you. It was the best for both of us in that moment." It had been the best for her, at least; she could not speak for her husband's regrets. "But if you don't mind me asking, I'd like to know. Why couldn't you marry her?"
"I was your last resort," she said through her smile, her words pained. In every sense of the phrase he'd been her last resort, too, so she had no right to be upset with him. "I've never been in love before. I hoped I would be, but—" She let out a shaky breath that nearly turned into a sob in her chest. Ari was a faithful man, one who rarely said anything to her he didn't mean. He was honest, he was good, he was everything she would have said she wanted in a husband five years ago, even if back then she was sure she would never have one at all. She didn't doubt for one second that his love for his mystery woman would ever fade, if only because he'd said so. "I suppose it wasn't meant to be." She chuckled then, allowing herself to relax against the bookshelf behind her.
A few moments passed, and she allowed herself to breath to avoid any unnecessary tears. It was a relief in a way, she tried to tell herself. No longer would she wonder the state of their marriage and what was to come. She would no longer wonder whether they would add another son, or maybe a daughter or two, to their family over the next decade. Elliott would be her only child—his only child. It confused her, but she wouldn't question it. Questioning his love for Elliott would likely pain him more than anything that could be said about their relationship.
"I don't blame you," she said finally, moving her arms across her chest. "You used me. I used you. It was the best for both of us in that moment." It had been the best for her, at least; she could not speak for her husband's regrets. "But if you don't mind me asking, I'd like to know. Why couldn't you marry her?"
