His eyes drop to the ring. I instinctively wrap my fingers around it. The ring is a souvenir from when Dom was alive, and that he loved me. That no matter what he did to me—how badly it ended—he still taught me how to live. Like a baby taking her first steps, I wobbled my way into life, and no matter how much I resent him for the way he behaved, I cannot forget how good he was to me.

“He cheated on you,” Joe snarls. “And I had to sit there and watch you fall in love with him, knowing he was screwing another woman behind your back.”

“Stop.” I grab the hem of his shirt, trying to tug him to me. He shakes me off. “Stop talking, Joe.”

He turns around, maintaining a safe distance from me. “Did you ever think why he stayed with you? It was why he did all things—his fear of loss. This is how screwed-up Dom was. He feared being alone more than he did being with the wrong person.”

“Joe,” I warn. “Joe, stop.”

“Don’t think that I can’t live without you, Ever. I can. I just don’t want to.”

“Bullshit!” I cry out.

“Honest-to-God truth,” he slams back.

“So why did you cut off all contact with me?” My eyes fill with tears. It was so hard to spend months of my life not speaking to him.

Joe closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Because I didn’t want to be your coping mechanism. Your rebound. Your designated mistake after going through something traumatic. The reason why I was so pissed with you when you left after we had sex wasn’t because I had an issue with what we did to Dom. In a way, I think we’d have done him a favor. Dom was in love with Sarah. So much so he didn’t have the balls to break up with her and move on. The only reason he stayed with you was because you were his plan B. It was sickening to watch both of you making a terrible choice and not being able to step in and stop you. And then he died, and through all the pain, and the guilt of being alive, of surviving, of not being able to stop it somehow, the only sliver of light was that you were both spared from having a terrible marriage. After we slept together, I felt used by you. A consolation prize. Like you screwed me just to prove a point to yourself. That you still could.”

I shake my head. “I slept with you because I’d thought about you every night, ever since Christmas,” I say, choking out the words. “Because I love you. God, Joe, I love you so much.”