“Then what was it?”
He raised his eyes, and they were wet in a way I had not seen since the funeral.
“It was the only place I could say our daughter’s name out loud, Liv.”
Those words struck harder than any admission of an affair ever could have. I pushed my chair back from the table.
“You said our daughter’s name to a stranger. For 10 years. While I sat in our bedroom by myself, wondering why you stopped talking about her.”
“I tried, Liv. Every time I started, you would leave the room. Or cry. Or go quiet for days.”
“So you replaced me.”
“I survived,” he corrected. “And I hated myself for needing to.”
I stood. “The second bracelet,” I snapped. “Don’t tell me it was guilt money.”
“She’s dying.”
I froze.
“Marta has stage four pancreatic cancer. They gave her weeks. I wanted her to have something beautiful before. Something to thank her for…” Nolan dragged one hand over his face. “For you. For our life. For all the years she gave back to us when she didn’t have to.”
I gripped the back of the chair.
“You let me think you were having an affair for an entire afternoon.”
“I didn’t know how to start, Olivia. I have never known how to start.”
“Twenty-six years of marriage and you didn’t know how to start?”
