I cracked the door.
Not wide. A finger of light on the hall floor, the latch off, the guest room still smelling like us. I showered fast and not well. I put Mark's shirt back on because my nightgown was in the wash and because I wanted Wes to see I had not become a wife again just by standing under water. His c*m was still in me. I felt it when I walked to our bed.
I lay on my side facing the hall. Phone on the nightstand. Earlier than I said still glowing on the lock screen. I did not text back.
Wes did not wait for a second invitation.
The crack widened. He came in without the lamp, sweats low, c**k already hard again. He shut our door and did not lock it. Mark had a key. A lock would have been a confession if the key turned.
"You left it open," he said.
"You told me to decide."
"
