After all, no matter how sexy she was, she wasn't as sexy as Alex's second mistress.
An international model, with nine-head proportions.
Three months after our child died, the media photographed her having a passionate night in a car.
They used up seven condoms.
Less than three days after I saw the report, Alex brought her into the house. She stood right where Lily was standing now, kowtowed to me, served tea, and I gave her an identical diamond bracelet.
Lily had obviously heard of the second mistress. She bit her lip unwillingly, suspicious of my purpose in saying these things.
Hearing Alex come back after hanging up the phone, I bent down and spoke close to her ear, passing on a few more points of experience: "From my experience, what Alex likes most is excitement and novelty—especially doing it by the window on thunderstorm days."
"However, you're pregnant. For the child's sake, you should sleep in separate rooms."
"After you give birth, there will be plenty of opportunities."
I saw the suspicion in her eyes disappear completely.
It turned into secret delight instead.
I turned to look out the window, then headed upstairs.
"I heard there's going to be a hurricane in a few days."