Chapter 13
“Finally, you show your face!” he lashed out at her. His eyes took in her disheveled hair, smeared makeup, and the dress that hung loosely on her hips. Disgust flashed in his eyes, and Colette felt as if he had physically slapped her.
“Wh–what are you still doing here?” she stammered, her voice trembling. He should have been in his office by now. She had not anticipated facing him so
soon.
“This is my home!” Matt told her viciously, advancing with slow, panther–like steps. “But you tell me now… Had a wild night?” For a second, Colette was stumped, not grasping his meaning. Then, she saw his eyes scanning her disheveled hair and smeared makeup. Her lower lip wobbled with tears. “Y–you the think I spent the night with someone?” Her heart throbbed painfully, as if a train had just passed over it. It was the shock, she told herself. Every time she thought things couldn’t get worse, something else happened. This man did something even more heinous, even more vile, to prove her wrong.
“Iris said she saw you flirting with a young man near the entrance. She must have sounded disapproving when she handed you the prescription, and you slapped her.” Colette wasn’t surprised. Iris had seen a chance and grabbed it with both hands. But the way Matt accepted those lies raised the question: was he doing the same? Had Matt had enough of her and wanted to be rid of her now that the allure of her body was ebbing away? Was he looking for an excuse to be rid of her once and for all? For a second, she wondered if both Iris and Matt were involved in this game, trying to gaslight her until she snapped. There was accusation, anger, and once again, disgust in his eyes, flaying Colette like nothing else could. But she refused to bow down. It was over. She had accepted it. No matter what he said or did, Colette wasn’t going to engage anymore. She needed to cut these vile, disgusting people out of her life.
“Did you sleep with Iris, Matt?” she asked softly, watching his expression closely. There was no guilt, just deep resentment and anger at her for daring to ask that question.
“How dare you ask me that?” he shouted, but she didn’t shrink away.
“My sentiments exactly,” she told him, watching his nostrils flare with even more anger.
“I didn’t spend the night out of my house and come back looking like a-” He stopped, and Colette smiled.
“Whore? Isn’t that what you were going to say? Why did you stop?”
Say it! Colette wanted him to say it! Because for all intents and purposes, she did feel like a whore. She had spent two years pleasing this man in bed in return for nice designer clothes, bags, diamonds, and expensive vacations twice a year and nothing else. No emotional connection, no kids, nothing. Just an exchange of sex for material gifts. He was right; she was a whore.
“Where did you spend the night? Where the hell were you?” he shouted again, fire burning in his eyes, his lithe body tight with tension. And somewhere along the way, Colette guessed what he was after. He wanted a confession.
“Would it assuage your guilt, Matt, if I told you that I spent the night with another man? Would it finally set you free from your troublesome wife, who was nothing but a burden on your shoulders now? If I had spent the night with another man, you would finally be able to get rid of me without any guilt or responsibility. Isn’t that what you’re after?” she asked, wondering how much she had guessed right.
The End Of a Marriage
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
