Mark was back.
He moved his things into the guest room three days ago, after I found out about Olivia.
The house felt cold, even with the summer heat outside.
Every corner held a memory, now tainted.
I saw an online poll, "After an affair, who does the cheater feel more guilt towards: spouse or lover?"
I don't know why I asked him. Maybe I wanted to hear something, anything, that sounded like remorse.
"Mark," I said, my voice flat.
He was scrolling on his phone, barely looking up. "What?"
"I saw this poll. Who do you feel more guilt towards? Me or her?"
He finally looked at me, his eyes tired, annoyed.
"Sarah, I'm back, aren't I? What more do you want?"
His words hung in the air, heavy and dismissive.
He wanted me to be grateful he was here, in the guest room, after he broke our life.
I turned away, the familiar ache in my chest tightening.
This was our new normal, a hollow shell of a marriage.
A week later, Mark approached me, a strained politeness on his face.
"Sterling Designs is having its annual charity gala next month."
I waited.
"I need you to come with me. For appearances. My partnership review is coming up."
Of course. Appearances.
His career.
It was always about his career.
He tried to put his arm around me, a gesture so out of place it felt like a mockery.
I stiffened. "Don't."
He dropped his arm, frustration flashing in his eyes.
"Sarah, can we just try? For one night? For Emily?"
"You mean for your partnership?" I asked, my voice quiet.
He sighed, a sound of pure exasperation. "Why do you have to make everything so difficult? Why do you always bring up Olivia?"
"Because you had an affair with her, Mark! An emotional affair you called a 'meeting of minds'!"
The words exploded out of me, louder than I intended.
He flinched. "It wasn't like that! You twist everything!"
"Then what was it like, Mark? Enlighten me."
He ran a hand through his hair. "I can't talk to you when you're like this."
He walked away, leaving me standing alone in the kitchen, the silence pressing in.