Page 209 of Accidental Husband

I have to put myself on the chopping block.

I have to risk everything.

That's the only way. It's always the only way.

I find a spare notebook in the bedroom. Try to channel my thoughts onto paper. I used to journal all the time. It's just like relationships.

It's scary and painful, sorting through my messy thoughts. So scary and painful I neglect the task. But there's too much at stake.

Griffin is my best friend.

And I…

Do I love him? I think I do. No, I know I do. But am I in love with him? How can I know? I thought I was in love with Jackson, but he didn't know me. I didn't know him. I had no idea he was fucking his coworker.

It doesn't even bother me. Sure, I hate that I was oblivious. I hate that my judgment was so compromised.

But that sting of betrayal? It's not in my gut. I'm relieved. I'm glad Jackson was fucking someone else.

That he gets some of the blame.

I'm glad it's over. Because God knows I wasn't going to end it.

I loved Jackson, yeah, but I wasn't in love with him. He wasn't the one.

It's always been Griff.

If I screw this up…

I can't lose him.

I can't.

I scribble messy thoughts until the room goes silent.

We're good. This is good. But it's scary and overwhelming and I'm not good at overwhelming.

I play the next album. Set the mood—dim lights, candles, rose petals on the bed.

I do away with my jeans and tank top. Don my lingerie. The white lingerie, the sheer robe I bought for my honeymoon.

This is my honeymoon. It's not the one I imagined. It's better. It's so much better.

But it's scarier too.

It's like Griff said. It's easy when you aren't invested. But when you are?

It's terrifying. It really is.

Keys jangle. The handle turns. Griffin's voice booms. "You home, baby?"

"Yeah." I pull my robe tighter, though it does nothing to cover me. The white chiffon is completely see-through. Which is insanely hot. And insanely revealing.

I mean, the point is that it's revealing. That I'm practically naked.

But Ifeelnaked. Like my scars are on display. The physical ones and the more metaphorical ones.

The new decorations are completely and totally me. They're a lot. Too much even.