I buried myself in work. The diner's buzz grew into a soothing beat, just background noise to disguise the tumult from within. I was at the office, playing with every detail to make sure nothing was misaligned. The spreadsheets on my computer screen just blurred into some mass of numbers and words that didn't make any sense as I stared blankly at them. I had been thinking a lot about things that didn't involve what I wanted to understand.
It was impossible not to notice. Every time I closed my eyes, there it was: Brandon's lips on another woman's with a familiarity that turned my stomach.
Why should that touch me so compellingly? I should have been expecting it to happen. Ours was not a real marriage: it was a contract; like a business deal. He was a free soul and entitled to do whatever
