Chapter 3 Next Time

• I was trying my best to appear calm, desperately hoping that he would believe my lie. But my heart was pounding in my chest, and my palms were sweaty.
• I was pretending to act like I was used to doing this sort of thing so that he wouldn't feel as guilty, but he seemed unperturbed, even smiling brightly at me.
• Why do I feel like our roles are reversed?
• “I should leave,” I told him, climbing out of bed.
• “Want me to send you?” He sat up and got down from the other side of the bed, turning his back to me. Right then, I saw the long red marks on his back.
• He noticed me staring and turned to glance at me in amusement. “You're the first person to ever scratch me.”
• “I didn't mean to scratch you,” I argued.
• “Then what was it?”
• “You were hurting me, so I did it in self-defense.”
• He laughed. “You're the one who was too tight.”
• “I thought you were saying that you're too big?” The words escaped me before I thought any better of it, my cheeks instantly flushing after saying so.
• “Lyle must have really hurt you, huh.” And just like that, he chalked up all of my actions to be the result of his best friend's extramarital affairs.
• So he knew all along that Lyle was cheating on me. I should have seen this coming. After all, birds of a feather flock together. I'm such an idiot.
• “Why didn't you tell me?” I demanded agitatedly.
• He shrugged as he buttoned up his shirt. “Tell you what? That Lyle hooked up with one of my friends? Or should I have brought you to catch them in the act?”
• I was rendered speechless.
• He reached out for my hand. “Let's go.”
• “I don't need you to send me home,” I snapped, slapping his hand away and standing up to leave. The truth was, I wasn't actually angry with him. I just thought the gesture was unnecessary since I merely had a one-night stand with him to get back at my husband, and nothing more than that.
• He didn't follow me out the door.
• Upon leaving the hotel, I hurried to a pharmacy to buy some morning-after pills and gulped them down, feeling slightly more at ease than before.
• Lyle was already asleep when I arrived home. He must have really trusted me as he didn't even text me to ask where I was when I didn't come back home last night.
• I closed the curtains and got ready for bed when my phone buzzed with a notification. To my surprise, it was a text message from Christopher: What are you closing the curtains for? I've already seen everything.
• I jumped in shock and quickly drew back the curtains to reveal a car parked downstairs.
• Christopher? Did he follow me home?
• My phone buzzed again: Don't take any pills next time. I'll wear a condom. The corner of my mouth twitched. He wanted a “next time”?
• Right then, I heard the sound of Christopher's car revving its engine downstairs.
• My fingers hovered over the screen of my phone for a moment. Instead of replying to his messages, I deleted our entire chat history.
• This will do for now.
• It was during breakfast the next day that Lyle asked me, “Where'd you go last night?”
• I froze up, nearly dropping my fork onto the floor.
• When I snuck a nervous glance at him, I saw that he was absentmindedly flipping through the newspaper and paying me absolutely no mind.
• I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth. Even my one-night stand followed me all the way home because he was concerned for my safety. Yet, my darling husband was asking about my whereabouts without any hint of worry.
• I smiled wryly. “I went to the beauty salon with my friends.”
• He accepted my flimsy excuse, making a simple sound of acknowledgment to signal the end of the conversation.
• Sadly, I had grown used to this silence after being married to him for two years.
• I was about to get up to put the dishes in the sink when I felt something press down on my shoulder, forcing me back into my seat.
• Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a figure dressed in white sit down in the chair next to mine.