the recovery project [2]

4 9

fiona

"i can't do this anymore," he whispers, staring at the wine glass in his hand. jazz music plays softly in the background in the nice restaurant.

"what?" she nearly spits out her parmesan chicken. "you're kidding, right?"

"i haven't been honest with you, fi— marriage is about honesty, yeah?"

her blood boils. of course he would do this in a public place so she can't lose her cool. "what did you do?"

"i..."

"what did you do, tristan?"

he sighs, looking pained. "you were always out with your clients, and when you would come home, you were too tired to really speak to me... and i ended up complaining to my coworker, kailey... and we were both lonely one night..."

she can feel her heart seizing inside of her chest. "so you fucked her? was she better than me, huh? did she—"

"fiona," he hisses, eyes averting back and forth. "don't say stuff like that. i understand why you're mad—"

"mad is an understatement," she twists the ring off of her finger. "i'm hurt, shocked, pissed off. i trusted you. and because i'm not giving you enough attention, you're going to cheat on me? what happened to fucking communication?"

"i'm sorry," he pushes his chair back, standing up. "i need to go."

"what about the check?"

but he's already gone.