The next morning, I woke before Brad.
I hadn't slept well.
The house was quiet.
His side of the bed was empty.
I found him downstairs.
He was sitting at the dining table with his phone beside him.
The folder was open.
The pharmacy bag was next to it.
He looked up when I entered.
"Good morning."
I didn't answer immediately.
I went to the kitchen and made myself tea.
I deliberately avoided the black mug.
It was still sitting beside the sink.
I brought my cup to the dining table.
"Are you ready?"
Brad nodded.
"I am."
I sat opposite him.
The first document was the appointment confirmation.
The second was the consultation summary.
The third contained the estimated costs.
I read every page.
Some details were familiar.
Others were completely new.
I asked questions whenever something wasn't clear.
Brad answered as best he could.
When he didn't know something, he admitted it.
That was different.
For months, he'd treated my questions as inconveniences.
Now he seemed to understand that I had every right to ask them.
We reached the financial estimate.
I looked at the figures.
"This is more than I expected."
Brad nodded.
"I know."
"Did you already agree to pay?"
"No."
"Did you give anyone our banking information?"
"No."
I studied his face.
"Are you certain?"
"Yes."
I looked through the remaining papers.
There were no payment confirmations.
No completed agreements.
Only estimates and preliminary arrangements.
I felt a little relief.
But I wasn't ready to thank him.
"Why did you involve Chloe instead of Margaret?"
He looked down.
"Margaret didn't know the office contact."
"And you couldn't contact them yourself?"
"I could have."
I waited.
He sighed.
"I liked having Chloe involved."
That answer surprised me.
"Why?"
He rubbed his hands together.
"She made me feel important. She paid attention to me. I started depending on that feeling."
I stared at him.
"Instead of talking to your wife."
He nodded.
"Yes."
I looked at the financial estimate again.
There was something painful about seeing our plans reduced to numbers on a page.
We had once talked about a nursery.
We had discussed possible names.
We had even argued about whether the spare room should become a bedroom or an office.
Those conversations seemed like they belonged to another couple.
I folded my hands.
"Do you still want a family?"
Brad looked up.
"Yes."
I wasn't sure what I expected him to say.
But his answer came quickly.
"More than anything."
I looked away.
"Then why did you put another woman between us?"
He didn't answer.
I continued.
"Do you understand what that did to me?"
"Yes."
"No, Brad. I want you to understand that I stopped imagining our future because I thought you had stopped wanting one with me."
His eyes became wet.
"I never stopped wanting it."
"But you stopped treating me like your partner."
He nodded.
I looked at the appointment date.
It was still printed across the top.
I took the pen beside the folder.
Then I crossed out the old date on my personal notes.
Not the official paperwork.
Just the date I had written down for myself.
I wasn't ready to make another appointment.
I wasn't ready to discuss children.
I wasn't even sure I wanted to remain married.
Brad watched me.
"What are you doing?"
"Giving myself time."
He nodded.
I placed the pen down.
"Before we make any decisions, I need to know something."
"Anything."
"Have you ended things with Chloe?"
"Yes."
"Completely?"
"Yes."
"Have you contacted her since she left yesterday?"
He shook his head.
"Only about the message she sent."
I looked at him.
"Then I want you to keep everything professional from now on."
"I will."
"And I want you to arrange whatever needs to happen at work so that she doesn't report directly to you anymore."
He nodded.
"I can speak to human resources."
I didn't like that the situation had reached this point.
But I couldn't pretend it was an ordinary workplace disagreement.
Brad had created a problem that affected more than our marriage.
He had also involved someone who worked under him.
I looked at the folder.
"What happens to these arrangements now?"
"Nothing happens without you."
I held his gaze.
"That's the first sensible thing you've said."
He almost smiled.
Then he stopped.
I appreciated that he didn't try to turn the moment into something cheerful.
After breakfast, I went upstairs.
I changed the sheets.
I opened the bedroom windows.
I put Brad's blue shirt in the laundry basket.
The cologne remained on the dresser.
I picked it up.
For a moment, I considered throwing it away.
Instead, I placed it inside a drawer.
I didn't want to make another emotional decision that morning.
When I returned downstairs, Brad was still at the table.
He had closed the folder.
He looked at me.
"Can we talk about what happens next?"
I sat down.
"Yes."
He took a breath.
"I know you might not forgive me."
I looked at him.
"I don't know what I'm going to do."
He nodded.
"I understand."
"I don't want you asking me to make a decision today."
"I won't."
"And I don't want you using our plans for a family as a reason I should stay."
His face changed.
"I wouldn't do that."
"You already did something similar by arranging everything without me."
He lowered his eyes.
I continued.
"If we ever decide to have a family, it will be because we both want it. Not because you think it will fix what you've broken."
He nodded.
For the first time, I saw him accept a boundary without trying to negotiate it.
That didn't repair our marriage.
But it gave me one small reason to believe the next conversation might be different.
Click here to continue reading: PART 15: Margaret Returned With Something Brad Had Told Her Months Earlier, and I Finally Learned How Long He Had Been Hiding His Regret
I Thought My Husband Was Meeting Another Woman That Morning, Until One Small Detail Made Me Question Everything
Part 14 of 20
