I buried my face in my hands and cried. Cried like I’d never cried before. The kind of crying that shook your bones and made your stomach ache and made your soul feel like it was cracking right down the middle.
“What the f**k is wrong with me?” I whispered to myself, my voice hoarse, shaking, broken. “Why did I think I mattered? Why did I let him touch me like that? Why did I let him ruin me? I’m so f*****g stupid. I’m so dumb. God, he probably didn’t even mean any of it. He probably just needed someone warm to f**k while his wife was gone. And I—I thought it was real. I thought he saw me.”
“She’s beautiful,” I whispered to myself, tasting the bitterness like poison in my mouth. “She’s everything I’m not. She’s his wife. She’s the one with the history. She’s the one he married. She proba
