Page 15 of Catcher

I know exactly what I did after.

I drag both hands through my hair, gripping hard at the roots as the realization sinks in deeper.

I took something from her.

Something she didn’t give lightly.

And then I made her feel as if it meant nothing.

Like she meant nothing.

The guilt hits hard, sharp enough to make my chest tighten, but the emotion doesn’t come alone.

Right behind it comes something darker.

Right behind it—where it’s been waiting—comes something darker.

Colder.

My wife.

Her face slams into my thoughts, vivid and unforgiving. Her laugh. Her smile. The way she used to look at me like I was everything, worth something, and hung the goddamn moon.

My stomach hollows out, and a deep, aching emptiness spreads through me.

“You piece of shit…” I mutter, voice low and rough.

Because that’s what this is…

A betrayal.

Doesn’t matter how long she’s been gone. Doesn’t matter that she’s buried and never coming back. She’s still mine. Always will be.

And I pause.

I let another woman into my bed.

Into my hands.

Into a place that should have stayed buried with her.

The weight in my chest grows. Grief and guilt twist together, choking me. I can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.

I turn toward the bathroom before it can drag me under completely, needing something to break the spiral.

A shower.

Cold.

Punishing.

Exactly what I deserve.

I crank the faucet all the way over and step under it without hesitation. The icy water slams into me, stealing my breath, my body jerking from the shock as a harsh hiss tears from my lungs.

Good.

Let it hurt.