"Athena, do you really think you have any dignity left? I wonder what your husband will think when you show up looking like a swollen pig. Think he'll still want you?"
I shoved her foot away. Clinging to one last shred of hope, I grabbed my phone and called Wilfred.
Once. Twice. A dozen times.
Either no answer, or rejected outright.
Fiona watched me with a mocking smile. "Athena, your husband's just like my sugar daddy—never picks up when his wife calls. But me? He answers on the first ring."
She dialed Wilfred on speakerphone.
"Baby, that woman refuses to apologize. Come deal with her yourself."
"On my way, sweetheart."
Seconds later, a text lit up my screen: What's wrong, honey? Swamped at work. Let's talk when I get home.
I stared at those words. Ice flooded my veins. Whatever warmth remained in my heart turned to frost.
Minutes later, footsteps echoed from the doorway.
Wilfred walked in and pulled Fiona into his arms.
"I'm here, baby. Who do I need to teach a lesson? Point her out."
I wiped the blood from my face and met his eyes.
"It's me, husband. How exactly are you planning to teach me a lesson?"
