"Mrs. Colby," the man murmured, his voice low and intimate. His hand slipped beneath her blouse, tracing the curve of her back. "It's my birthday today. How about giving yourself to me as a gift?"
Alexa caught his wandering hand, her movements slow, deliberate. She chuckled softly, her tone indulgent. "Alright. But not here. Someone might see us."
Her words shattered what little hope I had left. She entwined her arms around his waist, her touch possessive, leading him toward the car. Their laughter echoed faintly in the stillness as they disappeared inside. Moments later, my car—our car—began to rock in a steady rhythm.
I couldn't watch anymore. Tears blurred my vision and my chest heaved with silent sobs. "Take me back," I choked out to the driver, my voice barely audible.
The driver hesitated, his concern evident. "You sure, mister? You look like you need some fresh air. Don't let it eat you up. No woman's worth ruining yourself over."
I said nothing, only slumping deeper into the seat.
***