I woke up to the pale morning light filtering through the curtains, my body still humming from last night’s wild ride.
The bed felt too big, too empty beside me...no Richard snoring or sprawling out like he owned the damn thing. I stretched, sheets tangling around my legs, and glanced at the clock: 7:15 AM.
He hadn’t come home.
Part of me hoped he’d crashed at some hotel after screwing his assistant, or better yet, gotten lost in whatever hole he’d crawled into. The memory hit me like a slap...walking in on him pounding into Lisa on our bed, her legs wrapped around his waist, moans echoing off the walls.
'Open marriage,' he’d said, like it was a f*****g gift, calling me lazy, boring, past my prime.
Asshole. It stung, deep in my chest, a raw ache that made my eyes burn.
But then Ja
