This isn't looking good. Not at all.
"You know, I didn't mean those words. I was just moving along with her. You need to believe me, I—"
"Shh." He placed his finger on my lips, "if I thought you meant it, I wouldn't have told you about it." He smiled, "I wouldn't have bothered with this."
"But I don't—" I start to say, but he cut my words short.
"At first, I thought you meant those words. That was the reason I avoided intimacy with you. I thought—"
"I'm sorry."
Had I known this was the reason my husband had that deep hatred for me, I would have apologized long ago. But no, I thought he didn't love me.
"You don't have to be." He lightly caressed my cheeks, "at least I know you are not trying to kill me, to take over from me."
"That night? Those names?"
Now it all made sense why he calls me a gold digger.
"I'm sorry. It took me months to finally get to know who you are."
