He broke down and cried, cried like he hadn't in a very long time. He cried because he was soberly coming to the reality that his marriage was up in the air and it was entirely up to him where and how it landed.
Some days he didn't care, some days he did. Now, he had nearly convinced himself that the marriage was over, that it wasn't worth the effort and that in order to be his true self he needed to admit that his desire to be with a man, in every sense of the word, was much stronger than his desire to stay with his wife and repair the damage that had been done there.
When he returned home, the potential war zone awaiting him there may cause a relapse. This was his real fear, he supposed, going back to what was.
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