Everyone knew Jessica was ambitious—she pretended to be devoted and faithful on the outside, but in reality, she used Thomas’s money to support a whole string of male models.
The only person who was kept in the dark was Thomas, who, year after year, remained deeply devoted to her.
"You can talk about me, but not her."
With those words, Thomas slapped me across the face without a moment’s hesitation.
The fiery pain from the slap made me see this man clearly once again—he was nothing short of a beast.
I slammed the door shut, staring at the mess in the room, a reflection of our lost marriage that could never be salvaged.
From this moment on, I promised myself I would never shed another tear for him.
But Thomas didn’t seem to agree.
Living in the same neighborhood, with nothing more than a floor separating us, the next day I got into my car, ready to head to work.
At some point, Thomas had gotten into my car without my noticing and had already been waiting. Just like countless times before, he ordered me to drive him to the gym first, then turn around and take me to the office.
I found it laughable.