Today W came over to drop off our daughter and wanted to talk. She said she's "figured out a few more things". She pulled me into private and we had the following conversation. Definitely against DBing, but it was time to clear the air. Last fall my current thread was titled "My W doesn't regret her A". Here we go:

W: "I don't think I'm going to be able to give you what you need."
Me: (without batting an eye) "Then let's get divorced."
W: "No, wait. I mean, you need something from me, and, I don't think I can give it to you. I've realized lately what you're waiting for from me. That's why I pulled back. I can't give that to you."
Me: "Then we have a problem."
W: (nods) "H, you know I love you, I always have. I know I hurt you."
Me: "It's not just that you hurt me. It was the disrespect."
W: (looks away and nods) "I know. I know. It was wrong it started before I moved out. That's all I can give you. I've said I was sorry about that many times over the last two years. Do you remember that?"
Me: "Not really." (She has given the standard wayward non-apology, nothing more)
W: "I thought I was very clear telling you how I regret that it started before I moved out."
Me: "Talk is cheap."
W: "H, I don't think I'll ever fully know what you went through."
Me: "I've never gotten the impression you truly understand what you did."
W: "There have been moments over the last two years when I felt it, I did, and it was horrible."
Me: "I'm going to tell you something, and you should really think about it." (I paused and consdiered whether I should say it, but I decided I needed to) "<common friend> had it easier than I did." (in reference to the husband of a couple we knew well who had three little kids when the wife died suddenly without warning)
W: (shocked) "You're still angry."
Me: "I do have some anger, but that's not where that's coming from."
W: "You wish I died instead."
Me: "That's not what I said. I said it would have been easier for me, not the kids, but for me."
W: "That's pretty harsh."
Me: "<common friend> only had to deal with the loss.
W: (looks down and nods)
Me: (softening and smiling) "Just hearing what you said a moment ago, that was good to hear."
W: (smiles) "I'm glad."
Me: "I've tried to show you I understand how I failed you, and how I hurt you too."
W: "You have, really well."

By now our daughter was pounding on the door. Mommy and Daddy aren't allowed to talk in private for more than a few minutes!

W: "Is a hug ok?" (she pulls in to hug me, and kiss me on the cheek)
Me: (I pull my head away) "Hugs are absolutely ok, but I'm done with the cheek kissing. It's all or nothing."
W: "I guess I'll opt for nothing for a while."
Me: (smiling) "Ok."
W: (we had a long hug, then she started walking away)
Me: "Have fun." (she was going to a car show)
W: "Thanks."

Before I get evicerated for more R talk, remember, she brought it up!

I knew I really laid some tough stuff out there, but she needed to hear it. I had to speak my peace. I felt so much better after getting that stuff on my chest. Earlier I had asked her if she wanted to come watch a movie with us later that evening, and she enthusiastically said yes, but a few hours later she called and declined. I said "I know, that was a tough conversation. We have a lot to sit on for a while." She said "Yeah." I hesitated, then said "W, I'm not sure what I need." She said "I know, you will though. You'll figure it out."

About an hour later, she called back and said "Can I change my mind?" I said "Sure." She said "What time?" She came over and we had a great time with the kids for a while. No more R talk.

What I want to tell her is "W, when you said you can't give me what I need, what I hear is that it was worth it. It was worth losing me, our marriage, and half the kids' childhood. Was it worth that?" If she avoids a direct answer, I'd want to say "I'm worried the only way you'll ever know the real answer to that question is for me to force you to live it. Is that what I have to do?"

Am I nuts? Am I asking too much? I can't see myself being able to live in our marriage with her holding onto the "rightness" of what she did.