Page 12 of Best Kept Vows

My handsome husband with his Gregory Peck cheekbones and blue-blue eyes. When was the last time he looked at me…justmewith love and affection? When was the last time he sat next to me on a couch, his arm around me, my head resting on his shoulder as we watched some nonsense on television?

Three years ago.

He’d checked out of our family and our marriage, and now he was making demands on me? Well, he could go fuck himself.

“It’s not like we do much beyond sleep in our bed, and most of the time, you come in after I’ve fallen asleep and leave before I wake up. So, how the hell does it matterwhereI sleep?”

He flinched as if I’d physically struck him.

I didn’t swear—at least not out loud. In my head, I was a full-blown sailor. So, when I saidhell, the way his eyes widened and he physically took a step back, like I’d justdropped the filthiest word in the English language, was almost comical. He looked genuinely horrified as if I’d uttered a profanity obscene enough to scorch the wallpaper.

Bud, if you hear what I say in my head, you’d run far, far away from me.

His eyes narrowed, anger simmering dangerously close to the surface. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means.” A strange courage surged within me. “When’s the last time you…touched me?” I almost saidfucked me,and maybe I should have. Perhaps it was time for me to find out who the hell I was so I could bethatperson instead of Sebastian Boone’s Savannah society wife.

His voice hardened. “Don’t turn this around on me. You’re the one hiding away in here, acting like a martyr.”

What was he talking about? Had he been drinking?

“Amartyr?” I snapped, my voice rising. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“This is you sulking, isn’t it, because I didn’t come to your silly little ceremony?” He was so far gone, I could see it in his eyes, in his demeanor, he was riding on temper.

Still, thatsilly little ceremonycomment cut deep. I realized, at that moment, there weren’t any fresh wounds left on my soul—becauseIwas the wound. Raw. Exposed. So, when he said things meant to make me feel small, old scars didn’t just ache—they ripped open, bleeding all over again.

I pursed my lips and looked down at the floor, at my bare feet. I’d taken my heels off by the kitchen when I came in and hadn’t bothered to find my house slippers.

Ifinally looked up at him. “Why are you picking a fight with me, Sebastian?”

His nostrils flared. “I am not.”

I swallowed. “Shecalled you Seb.”

I could all but hear his teeth grind. “I already told her not to do that again. She didn’t mean anything by it—just a slip. No need to blow it out of proportion.”

How interesting that neither of us needed to address whoshewas because we both knew, which meant he knew the second she used that shortened name I’d react, and yet he hadn’t called, hadn’t reached out to put my mind at ease. Oh no, he’d shown up late in the evening and picked a fight.

That’s when the epiphany struck.He felt guilty.

About what?

My body began to shiver. My heart hammered, adrenaline racing through me. “Are you…are you having an affair with Jane?”

His face flushed deep crimson. “For Christ’s sake, Lia! How can you even ask me that? After all these years, you think I’d betray you like that?”

I knew Sebastian inside out, and right now, he was feeling tremendous guilt. My breath shuddered.

“You are, aren’t you?”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Stop swearing at me.” I stepped forward, all five feet three inches of me against his six feet three inches. “I knowyou. You look guilty. God! Is that why you’ve been ignoring me? Is that why?—”

“Stop it! I’mnothaving an affair.” He put hishands on my shoulders. “If you say you know me so fucking well, you’d know I’d never do that.”

“I don’t know what to think anymore.” I stared at him, unwilling to back away this time. “You’re neverhere, Sebastian.” I waved a hand around to indicate our home, and pulled away from his touch. “What else am I supposed to think?”