everything I’ve been hiding from you.”
He paused.
“Then we decide whether there’s still something left of those thirty-seven years worth saving.”
I squeezed his hand.
That night, I had gone to a hotel believing I needed a younger man to make me feel like a woman again.
But lying in that hospital bed, I finally understood something painfully simple.
Robert and I had both been terrified of growing old.
We had just been too ashamed to tell each other.
I didn’t know whether he would forgive me.
I didn’t know whether our marriage would survive.
But I knew one thing.
The red lingerie I had worn for another man had never been the real problem.
The real problem was two people who had spent years sleeping beside each other while hiding the very fears that were slowly tearing them apart.
