Chapter 7

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"You're fucking kidding me!" exclaimed Justine.


"Nope," I shook my head and took a sip of my iced water, hoping the entire restaurant hadn't heard her.


We had agreed to meet for lunch at El Toro's for fajitas on a Saturday afternoon. I'd let Justine get about halfway through her margarita before clueing her in on what had been going on between Harry and me since that night at Mikado's.


"Damn, woman!" she said in a loud whisper.


"You think bad of me, don't you?" I cringed.


Justine sighed. "No. No, hon, I don't. Who the hell am I to judge?"


I bit my cheek and looked down at my plate.


"I could tell something was up when I saw you last."


I raised my head with wide eyes. "Nothing was going on between us then, I swear."


"No, I mean your marriage. You didn't seem happy when I asked you about it."


I thought for a moment. "But that doesn't justify my cheating, does it?"


Justine gave me a sympathetic smile. Instead of answering my question, she asked me another one. "How bad is it?"


"That's the thing, Justine. It's not bad. It's just...okay."


Justine was silent, waiting for me to continue. I sighed.


"I know he loves me. He's very good to me. And when I told him I wanted to go back to school, he was very supportive."


"But he doesn't know about Harry, does he?" Justine asked, eyes wide.


"No!" I shook my head with nervous laughter. "At least, not in that way. He knows about the partnership in Soc. class. But that's all."


"But you're together all the time, right? He's bound to suspect something."


I shrugged again. "I don't think James is the type of person to suspect anything. Jealousy is not in his nature."


Our waiter came by to check on us and refill my water. When he'd left Justine asked me the question I'd hoped she wouldn't ask.


"What do you think he'll do if he finds out?"


I closed my eyes, wishing for a moment that I hadn't confessed to her. Or moreover, that there had been nothing to confess. That I could make it all go away, turn back time. But how far back would I go? To that night at Harry's apartment? Before we'd had sex? Or further back - to the day we'd met. Maybe I wouldn't have let him sit next to me. No, the truth was I feeling guilty. Up to now I had been justifying my actions, denying that what I was doing was wrong. But Justine's question, the inevitable question, brought me back to reality. And the question wasn't if he finds out, but when.

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