For the prompt: "I forgive a lot, but I never forget what was said and done."
"Nadine, is there anything else I need to know?"
Nadine could hear her own heartbeat thudding in her ears.
It's over and done. Confess your sins. Say it.
Don't say it.
Say it.
Don't. Don't—
"Arabelle, I..." She swallowed, and looked down at her desk. Maybe she could say it, but she wouldn't be able to make eye contact while she did. Her bravery would only extend so far. "I had been... having an affair with Vincent. Until- until he died."
Thick silence.
Nadine chanced to look up, but Arabelle was looking away, out the window. Her expression was inscrutable. "It's been eating at me for years," Nadine continued in a hushed voice, "and I'm... I'm so ashamed. I'm so sorry. You can't imagine how much I wish I could take it back."
The silence continued to stretch, and Nadine didn't know where to go from there. Arabelle was giving her nothing in return.
Finally, she sighed. "Nadine... I always knew."
Nadine froze. "I... I beg your pardon?"
"You know, it always confounded me how you could be so good at poker when you were always so terrible at deception. Yes, I knew." She amended, "I always... suspected. There was no concrete evidence, but you were never particularly difficult to read."
"You knew," Nadine repeated hollowly. Her brain scrambled to fit this new piece of information into her well-established framework of the last decade of her life. "You never... you never said anything."
"I never cared," Arabelle said blandly. She peered at her. "Did you think he was the only one in his marriage who was being unfaithful?"
Nadine had never bothered to wonder. She'd never given it any thought at all. And now she didn't know what to say.
Arabelle went on. "Anyway. Iran notwithstanding, I knew Vincent extremely well. I knew him better than you did." Her gaze was sharp but it lacked malice, it even lacked contempt. Her indifference somehow felt worse, like Nadine wasn't even important enough to matter. "You thought he'd leave me for you. I knew he never would."
Nadine's breath caught in her chest, and she bit back the urge to cry. "I see," she said quietly.
"Is there anything else, Nadine?"
"No," she whispered, and when it was barely audible she said it again, louder. "No."
"I forgive a lot," Arabelle told her. "I forgive you. But... I never forget what was said and done. I want you to know that."
She left, and Nadine allowed herself to cry.