Many years ago, I met my husband at an orphanage. Marat was part of me—until he became a traitor.
“Yeah, I’m cheating on you, but it changes nothing,” Marat rubs his face with his palm, exhausted.
“For you, Aurora, everything stays the same,” cynicism in his voice goes off the charts. “You’re my wife. Keep pretending you love me.”
I’m thrown off by such audacity. Does he really think it’s easy for him now—after what he’s seen—to continue acting all reverent in front of his business partners and relatives? Damn it… they might even know about his affairs! He hopes my disgust with his touch won’t show, and that I’ll keep satisfying his sexual needs whenever he decides to play the exemplary husband again? Like this morning…
“Stop thinking so loudly, Ro. No tricks. You’ve got nowhere to go, and our family life suits me fine,” he smirks, casting a sharp look at me.
“I’m against divorce.”