Richard slowly turned toward me.
There was no smile on his face.
Then he whispered:
“If you knew what I really did, you wouldn’t be wearing that ring.”
I froze.
“Richard…”
“I should have told you before we got married.”
His voice cracked.
“I was selfish. I kept thinking that if I waited long enough, maybe it wouldn’t matter anymore.”
My stomach tightened.
“What wouldn’t matter?”
Before he could answer, his legs gave out beneath him.
He collapsed against the terrace wall.
Within minutes, he was barely conscious.
Someone helped me get him upstairs.
But I couldn’t sleep.
His words kept replaying in my mind:
If you knew what I really did…
I tried to convince myself he was simply drunk.
Maybe he didn’t even know what he was saying.
Maybe morning would make everything seem less frightening.
It didn’t.
At sunrise, Richard was still asleep.
