For a split second, his expression froze and I saw a flicker of guilt cross his face. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual arrogance.
“Anniversary? So what?” he muttered, yanking off his tie and tossing it aside carelessly. “We’ve been married for years, Jane. You really think missing one stupid anniversary is a big deal? We’ll celebrate another time.”
Before I could respond, he moved closer, his hands roughly grabbing at my shirt. His eyes were glazed over, his touch cold and indifferent, like I was nothing more than an object to him now.
“Mark... stop,” I whispered, feeling the bile rise in my throat. His breath was a sickening mix of tobacco and another woman’s perfume. Kath’s perfume.
His grip tightened as he buried his face into my neck, the stench of him making me gag. The room began to spin and without warning, I shoved him off me and ran to the trash can, vomiting violently.
Behind me, Mark cursed, his voice incredulous. “Are you kidding me? You’re actually disgusted by me now?”