At first, I thought his work had simply gotten busier. Until one day, I found lingerie in our closet that didn't belong to me. And the condoms in the house inexplicably decreased.
Soon after, his secretary, Louise Clover, became increasingly brazen. Every so often, she would flaunt their 'love' on social media or subtly provoke me.
Now, I was tired of it all. The irony was that now, Troy remembered I was afraid of thunder.
Yet he didn't know that during countless unbearable nights, I had already learned how to endure the lightning and thunder alone.
I must have fallen asleep again, as I didn't notice when he finished his shower and came out.
He lay beside me in his bathrobe, trying to hug me from behind, his breath on my shoulder and neck growing warmer as he said, "Felicia … can we?"
I sat up and pushed him away. After composing myself, my gaze fell on the ambiguous marks under his collar and asked, "Did Louise not satisfy you?"