“my goodness …” she says with a sort of flustered laugh at the other’s confession, brows raised all the higher this time, “you’re outrageous. truly.” maybe she means it as a compliment; she’d always been attracted to strong personalities, after all, for better or worse. “i wonder, would you want me half as much if i weren’t so unattainable?” such a bloody cliché — and yet she can’t deny she’s enjoying the attention.
enjoying it far too much.
she lifts her glass again, and with an amused, thoughtful hum, she answers, “you’re assuming i don’t know what it’s like.” to cheat? to be with a woman? kate purposely doesn’t clarify. instead, she lets her eyes fill in the blanks for her — her otherwise soft, innocent eyes darkening in tune with caroline’s to reveal their hidden depths.
yes, she has stepped outside of her marriage before, with both men and women, and she’s certainly not proud of it; not as open and carefree about her immoral behaviour as caroline seems to be about hers. somehow, though, no amount of shame and remorse in the aftermath stops kate from making the same old mistakes.
cognitive dissonance, her therapist calls it.
being a cowardly piece of shit, her sister, lorna, calls it.
it’s not even about betraying her husband — not when he has his own fair share of sordid little secrets. it’s the fact that she’s no better than him, really, is she? it’s the fact that she doesn’t deserve any better than him. with that horrible thought in mind, kate’s brows briefly furrow and she downs the rest of her wine in one quick swig.
“then again,” she follows up with a sly curl of her lips, unable to help herself, unable to resist that pesky little devil on her shoulder, “something tells me you’re … rather in a league of your own, ms. dubuis. who wouldn’t be just a teeny bit curious about that?”