I remembered sitting awake at night, wondering whether he was stressed about work.
I remembered asking Megan whether she thought Ryan and I needed to spend more time together.
I remembered her telling me that every marriage had difficult seasons.
And I remembered her going home afterward to send my husband photographs I had never imagined he would ask another woman to take.
I wiped my eyes.
“Did you think about our children?”
Ryan shook his head.
“No.”
“Did you think about what would happen if I discovered the truth?”
He didn’t answer.
“Did you think about what it would do to Dawson?”
“I know I hurt him.”
“And me?”
He began crying harder.
I wanted to comfort him.
That was the most disturbing part.
After eighteen years together, my first instinct was still to make his pain easier to bear.
I almost reached for his hand.
Then I stopped.