The man I had an affair with was the marriage counselor my husband paid a fortune to bring us together-10
Shattering
The words spun, danced, overlapped. Poisoned daggers. Stabbed my heart! "...yeah, significant progress, clear dependency formed, next push should seal it..." David’s voice continued, coldly calculating. Dependency? Push? I was a fool. A pawn on his vast chessboard. Every move, scripted! That rainy-night text. The bar "chance encounter". The coffee cup "brush". His attentive gaze. His gentle smile. Every "I understand"... Fabrications! All to test me?! To assess my "loyalty"?! Bile surged. "DAVID!!!" I screamed, smashing the study door open! Wood slammed wall. He whipped around. Phone clattered to carpet. Smugness froze, morphed to terror. He saw my pallor. Saw my fixed stare on the drawer. Comprehension dawned.
The Husband’s Perverted Victory
His gaze locked on me. His lips twisted slowly upward. Not a smile. A predator’s snarl, savoring the kill. His voice cut the silence, low, venom-laced ice: "You slept with him?" Three words. Featherlight. Yet they crushed me to dust! Before I could react, could force a sound from my humiliation’s depths—The smirk deepened.
His next sentence plunged me into hell: "He works for me." He stepped closer, towering over my frozen form, inspecting damaged goods. "I needed proof," his tone held nauseating relief, veiled arrogance, "you’d never betray me." …… Never. Wouldn’t. Betray. Me. Each syllable smashed my shattered heart, pulverized my soul's ruins. Screen glow etched his horrifyingly alien face. Traced my tear-streaked shock and shame. Only the AC hum remained. And the deafening, silent snap of my sanity.
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The words spun, danced, overlapped. Poisoned daggers. Stabbed my heart! "...yeah, significant progress, clear dependency formed, next push should seal it..." David’s voice continued, coldly calculating. Dependency? Push? I was a fool. A pawn on his vast chessboard. Every move, scripted! That rainy-night text. The bar "chance encounter". The coffee cup "brush". His attentive gaze. His gentle smile. Every "I understand"... Fabrications! All to test me?! To assess my "loyalty"?! Bile surged. "DAVID!!!" I screamed, smashing the study door open! Wood slammed wall. He whipped around. Phone clattered to carpet. Smugness froze, morphed to terror. He saw my pallor. Saw my fixed stare on the drawer. Comprehension dawned.
The Husband’s Perverted Victory
His gaze locked on me. His lips twisted slowly upward. Not a smile. A predator’s snarl, savoring the kill. His voice cut the silence, low, venom-laced ice: "You slept with him?" Three words. Featherlight. Yet they crushed me to dust! Before I could react, could force a sound from my humiliation’s depths—The smirk deepened.
His next sentence plunged me into hell: "He works for me." He stepped closer, towering over my frozen form, inspecting damaged goods. "I needed proof," his tone held nauseating relief, veiled arrogance, "you’d never betray me." …… Never. Wouldn’t. Betray. Me. Each syllable smashed my shattered heart, pulverized my soul's ruins. Screen glow etched his horrifyingly alien face. Traced my tear-streaked shock and shame. Only the AC hum remained. And the deafening, silent snap of my sanity.
NEXT >>
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