Then Simond followed her movement, his gaze full of adoration—the kind of warmth and desire I had never received from him. His eyes held nothing but love for her.
I had thought my husband was just a cold, serious man. I had accepted it. At least he married me, he came home to me—mated with me. I told myself it was okay that he wasn’t affectionate—that it was just his nature.
But now I know the truth.
He just wasn’t like that with me. He’s cheating on me.
Tears spilled down my face, ruining the makeup I had carefully put on for him. Who else had he been with? Was it just Nalla? Did it include my friends? My sister, Tati?
No…
“It doesn’t matter when,” Simond murmured, pulling her closer. “I belong to you, don’t I? Yes, I mate with her, but only because I imagine it’s you. That’s the only way I can stand touching her. Do you think I enjoy kissing her? Holding her? Pouring myself into her when we have sex?”
I heard Nalla sniffle—crying and expressing himself freely. Meanwhile, I had to cover my mouth to keep from making a sound. Why did I feel like the intruder here? Like I was the mistress hiding in the dark, waiting for scraps of affection?