Chapter 119

Sullivan gazed at Megan’s serene face, glowing in the twilight’s gentle embrace, her beauty a soft whisper in th

He couldn’t help himself and leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered something saucy–a playful jest te would be innocent enough between loving spouses, but to Megan, it was repulsive.

Behind Sullivan, a maid peeked around the corner, curiosity etched on her face.

Megan’s voice was a gentle reminder, “Isn’t it time for dinner?”

Sullivan caught her slender wrist, chatting casually as they walked towards the dining room. He mentioned the evening’s special–crab, freshly delivered that afternoon.

“Isn’t that your favorite? Make sure you have an extra serving or two,” he said with a lighthearted nudge.

Megan offered a faint smile in return.

At dinner, she didn’t let her discontent show, nor did she confront her husband about his behavior.

When he played the doting lover, she played along.

Later that night, when Sullivan sought intimacy, Megan did not refuse. But just when the moment was upon them, her hands trembling, she reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out a small box, asking him to wear protection,

Sullivan paused, taken aback.

Truth be told, he didn’t like to use it, and perhaps neither did Megan,

child, mentioning how he was nearing

her fingers tenderly tracing the lines of his

So dashing!

reigniting the spark she felt for him, Sullivan

her eyes, her voice gentle, “It’s too soon, Sullivan. We still need to find our rhythm, and besides, aren’t you swamped with

propped himself up, gazing

he agreed with

tender moments, Megan followed her usual routine

Sullivan retreated to his

wife often knows if her husband’s heart lies elsewhere. Though Megan bore his touch,

intimate moment,

moment of release.

suspected it had something to do with

around comes

her beauty routine, with Sullivan still absent, Megan decided to sort through his discarded clothes in the laundry room. While emptying his pockets, she found an invitation to a private soiree, clearly in the handwriting

bitter smile crossed Megan’s lips. She returned Sullivan’s coat to its place

was cool as she

years of a cold marriage, and

She

inwardly, “Megan, you’re

F F G D E G

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