“You’re damn right, I’m emotional! This was you, wasn’t it? You found those photos and took them to Dale, complaining about this morality clause bullshit—”
He’s shaking his head. “This isn’t about me. This is about the integrity of PFH—”
“Oh, don’t you fucking dare,” I cry. “This is about your ego and nothing else. What I want to know is why now? Why these photos? Surely you have better evidence—”
“That’s right, I do,” he says, stepping into my space. “I’ve got enough evidence of your affairs to end you. Out of the goodness of my heart, I was the bigger fucking person and I kept quiet.”
I take a deep breath, trying to find my calm. “You know, when everything first fell apart, I wanted a divorce. But your mother encouraged us to take it slow, to work on finding a fix. I agreed to counseling. It was only when I learned that you were still fucking the secretaries that I walked out.”
He scoffs, turning away.
“But then your mother came to me again and asked me to consider a trial separation,” I go on. I know he knows all this, but he likes to conveniently forget the important details. “She asked me to keep it quiet for the sake of the company, for the sake of the family. I agreed. I’d do anything for her, Troy. You know that. And it didn’t seem important to dissolve a paper marriage as long as you were behaving—”
He spins around. “Behaving? Jesus, I’m not some naughty child, Tess. I’m a grown ass man.”
“I thought we had both moved on,” I press, taking a step closer. “This was business only. It appeased your mother and helped her save face with her friends. All our mutuals know it’s over. And we were both seeing other people—”
“I kept my affairs quiet,” he shouts. “That’s the difference here, Tess. Meanwhile, you’re splashing yours across page six, making me look like the asshole of the century.”
“I told you it was nothing—”
“Yeah, like I believe that,” he scoffs.
Righteous indignation surges through me. “I’ve never lied to you, Troy. That’s your M.O.”
He glares at me, daggering me with his eyes.
After a tense moment, I let out a tired sigh. “Just give me a divorce, Troy. It’s time—”
“No. We’re not there yet.” He shakes his head. “I’m not gonna let you do this to us.”
“We are so there! We’re right fucking there. Troy, this isn’t a marriage anymore. It’s a hostage crisis!”
“God, you are so overdramatic! I can’t believe I thought I could have a calm, rational conversation with you about this. You’re chaotic—”
“And you’re transparent,” I counter. “You think I don’t know what this is about—”
“This is about you being a frigid workaholic. You pushed me away, Tess. You gave up on us, and you blame me for seeking comfort in someone else’s arms? I couldn’t live in the shadow of your indifference. You never put me first. So yes, I put me first, Tess,” he shouts, jabbing a thumb at his chest. “Someone had to.”
His words hit me like a slap, and I reel back. “You really believe that, don’t you?”
“It’s true, and you know it,” he replies. “Even if you won’t ever admit it.”
“I did put you first, Troy. I always only ever put you first. I sacrificed everything for you—”
“And what did that earn me except your shitty resentment?” he says, leveling a finger in my face.
I lean away, eyes wide. I’m trapped between him and the desk, the edge of it biting into the curve of my hip.
“You don’t get to play the martyr and make me the villain,” he says. “I didn’t ask you to pick my law school or work for my family firm or fucking smother me—”
“Well, did I smother you, or was I indifferent?” I challenge.
He turns away, cursing under his breath.
“You can’t have it both ways, Troy,” I call at his back. “Did I put you first or last? Or do you even know? Did you even notice me until I was gone? No, you were too busy with your golf weekends and your client dinners and your girlfriends—”
“Don’t turn this around on me. You always do that. You spin my words and make me the asshole. I’m not the asshole, Tess. I’m not the cheater—”
“You cheated, Troy. You were married to me and fucking other people without my knowledge or consent. That makes you the literal definition of a cheater.” It’s my tone that surprises me. So detached.