Page 140 of Homewrecker

I told her and her entire reaction changed. “Fuck that project.”

I laughed. “Exactly.”

“Proud of you.”

My smile disappeared. “Don’t be.”

“I mean it.”

“I did my job.”

“No. You protected yourself. You would’ve talked yourself out of what you felt a few years ago.”

She wasn’t wrong.

“You would’ve been worried about being difficult, dramatic, or losing money.”

“Janelle. I just don’t want to ever be that woman again.”

“I know.”

I tightened my hands around the steering wheel. “I hate that I even have to think about this shit.”

“I know.”

“I hate that every married client makes me check myself.”

“I know.”

“I hate wondering whether women are looking at me thinking—”

“Blair.”

I stopped.

“You don’t owe every married woman you meet proof that you won’t fuck her husband. You did something fucked up, but you should not walk around with a debt to every wife in America.”

A tear slipped down my cheek.

“You handled today exactly how you should’ve. Now... Go home.”

“I am.”

“Take a bath and drink some wine… because I need time to emotionally prepare myself before I refund all that damn money.”

I laughed. “Goodbye, Janelle.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I couldn’t go backward and become the woman who never slept with somebody else’s husband. But I could decide who got out of my car, who walked into tomorrow, and who I became every time life handed me another opportunity to choose differently.

My mistake was part of my story, but it shouldn’t be a life sentence. I had been someone’s other woman, and I knew that.

But my growth wasn’t about erasing the woman I used to be, but recognizing the choices that I made moving forward.

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