“She makes me feel alive again,” he added, like he was performing a breakup speech.
Alive?
“We have six kids, Cole. What do you think this is, a coma?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” he said. “You don’t even see yourself anymore. You used to care about how you looked. How we looked.”
I stared at him.
He continued. “When’s the last time you wore real clothes? Or something that wasn’t stained?”
My breath caught. “So that’s it? You got bored? Found someone with tighter abs and nicer leggings, and suddenly the last sixteen years are what—a mistake?”
“You’ve let yourself go,” he said bluntly.
