He nodded, conceding this. “Our life, yes. But I know you want safe. You want predictable, and a baby needs that, too, and—”

“I want predictable? I want safe?” I shook my head. “No, you have that all wrong. You didn’t support me applying to Cambridge because it was so far away. You—”

“I wasn’t the one to rip up the application,” he said, his voice like ice.

Undeterred, I went on. “You didn’t want kids early in our marriage because of the burden while working long hours. You begged me to take the job at the farm because it was secure, comfortable.”

James tapped two fingers against the white tablecloth. “You accepted the job, not me, Caroline.”

We fell silent as our waitress arrived with two bowls of pasta and set them in front of us. I watched her walk away, making careful notice of her perky, perfectly shaped ass, but James’s eyes stayed solidly on me.

“You can never take back what you did to me,” I said, pushing away my untouched plate. “Do you realize that? I will never forget. It will be a permanent scar on us, if we even make it through this. How long will it take us to be happy again?”

He grabbed a bread roll from the center of the table and shoved it into his mouth. “That’s up to you. I told you, it’s over and done with. A screwup on my part, one I’m now working to fix with you, my wife.”

I imagined five or ten years from now. If James did indeed remain faithful to me, perhaps the other woman would someday seem little more than an old mistake. After all, I’d once heard that nearly half of marriages struggle with infidelity at some point. But I’d realized in recent days this woman wasn’t the only source of unhappiness in my life. As we sat across from each other at the table, I considered sharing my feelings with him, but I didn’t view him as an ally in whom I could confide. He remained an adversary, and I felt protective of the truths I had begun to discover on this trip.

“I came to London to apologize to you,” James said. “I don’t care what the rest of this trip looks like. Screw the original plans. We can hang out in the room and eat Chinese food for all I care—”

I held up my hand to stop him. “No, James.” No matter how raw he felt, his feelings were the least of my concerns. My own were still terribly bruised. “I’m not at all happy you came out to London without asking me. I came here to process what you did, and I feel like you chased me here. Like escape wasn’t something you allowed me to do.”