WIFE WHO CHEATED ON ME

CHAPTER 1: beginning of destruction Pov Conrad! There it is. The picture that's been plaguing me for the past week. Everyone I know has probably seen it already by now. My wife, Camilla, with the sweetest grin adorning her face as she's getting her hair ruffled by her coworker. I've *never* seen Camilla give me a smile as sweet as that one ever before. Hell, I was under the impression that she didn't even like getting her hair ruffled. She'd always shove my hand off of her head and give me a glare whenever I tried to do it, saying I made her hair look all messy. But with this coworker of hers, she appears to be giving him heart-eyes. She's even blushing a little. "We're *friends*,honey. Friends act like that all the time," Camilla sighs for the third time today, rolling her eyes at me. She shoves my shoulder to push me away as she makes her way to the fridge to grab a can of beer. She's not in the mood to talk to me right now. Well, she never really is. But right now, she just wants to get herself drunk enough not to be able to answer any of my questions, in hopes that I'll give up and walk away. It doesn't help that I notice the hickey on the back of her neck when she reaches down to take a few cans out. I grab her wrist "honey-" She yanks her wrist away from my grip, turning to face me with a scowl that has become far too familiar over the years. Her jaw tightens, a muscle twitching beneath her skin. "I said *no*." She's been using that tone with me for months now. The tone that makes me feel like a stranger in my own house.She pops the tab on her beer with a sharp *crack* that echoes through the kitchen. Takes a long swig, not even bothering to look at me. "You gonna stand there all night?" she asks flatly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Cause if you're gonna ask about the picture again, the answer is no. We were just hanging out. He's a coworker." I look at her "are you serious right now? I just want to talk with you." She sets the can down with a heavy clunk and crosses her arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. Her eyes are guarded, tired. "Talk about *what*?"Her voice is flat, almost bored. "About how you're always jealous? About how I can't even have friends without you questioning me?" She tilts her head, studying me like I'm some kind of pest she wants to swat away. I looked at her with watery eyes "it's because you changed! You always come home late smelling of men's perfume. Do you think I'll just keep quiet? Honey, I'm your husband." Her expression shifts slightly—not softer, but more irritated. She takes another long drink, avoiding my eyes. "I'm your *wife*, and I don't need to answer to you for every f*****g thing I do." She sets the can down harder this time. "I'm not having another conversation about this. It made you pathetic last time, it'll make you pathetic this time too." I just look at her " yeah...but at least explain to me the love bite marks on your neck . can you tell me the truth? I'm really tired" Her hand instinctively goes to her neck, covering the marks. For a split second, something flickers across her face—guilt? Shock? She quickly masks it with irritation. "It's nothing." She turns away, grabbing another can from the fridge. "Just some roughhousing at the company party. You know how we get." She's not even convincing herself with that lie. I my tears finally fell " please...can you tell me the truth? thiis really torturing me" whisper with tearsShe freezes, her back still turned to me. The can in her hand trembles slightly. When she finally turns around, her face is pale, but her jaw is set stubbornly. "I..." She starts, then stops. Swallows hard. "You wouldn't understand." She sets the can down, fingers gripping the counter's edge like she's steadying herself. "His name is Daniel. We've been..." I just look at her with tears prepare to hear the worst She exhales sharply through her nose, like she's fighting against every word coming out. "We've been... seeing each other. For about three months." The words hang in the air between us like a gunshot. I feel my legs go weak, but I stay standing. "Camilla..." My voice cracks. "Don't." She holds up a hand, finally meeting my eyes. I just look at her with tears "why? I don't understand...why?" Whsiper "You want the truth?" She laughs bitterly, the sound sharp and cruel. "You really want to know why I'm cheating on you?" She steps closer, her voice dropping to a hiss. "Why I'm sleeping with Daniel behind your back?" "Because you barely *exist* anymore." Her eyes bore into mine, no longer guarded—just empty. "You work late, you come home exhausted, you fall asleep before I can say anything to you. We stopped touching months ago. I might as well be married to a f*****g corpse." She snatches her beer back up, takes a defiant swig. "Daniel actually *looks* at me." She continues, voice cracking just slightly despite her best efforts to stay cold. "He touches me.He understand me" I just looked at her with tears and didn't expect us to end up like this.**