My Husband Called Me Disgusting

"Evie, I'm exhausted tonight. Let's get some sleep." Nathaniel Cole tucked the blanket snugly around me, pressed a perfunctory kiss to my forehead, and rolled over, turning his back to me. Perhaps he thought that was too cold, because a moment later he turned back and pulled me into his arms. My fingers tightened around the edge of the blanket. It had been nearly a month since he'd touched me. Lying there, listening to his breathing slow and even out beside me, I knew something had gone wrong between us. By morning he was already gone. On the table I found a fresh bouquet of roses and, inside the jewelry box, a necklace that was clearly expensive. He'd left a note explaining that he had been working late and a business dinner tonight and wouldn't be able to celebrate my birthday with me, so he was giving me my gift early. I put the necklace away. The warmth I usually felt on my birthday wasn't there. Nathaniel knew perfectly well that I rarely wore jewelry this extravagant. He'd bought it anyway, an afterthought wrapped in a ribbon. Just before the end of the workday, a colleague mentioned that they'd put together a little birthday get-together for me at a karaoke lounge. I wasn't really in the mood, but since Nathaniel wouldn't be home early anyway, I went along with it. Before we cut the cake, I slipped out of the private room to use the restroom and nearly walked into a colleague hovering anxiously by the door. She grabbed my hand, her voice braced like someone delivering a death sentence. "Evelyn, I just saw your husband in one of the other rooms." My heart lurched. I looked in the direction she indicated and, through the gap in the door, spotted Nathaniel, who was supposed to be at a business dinner, standing with his drinking buddies, a glass in hand. I reached for the door handle but couldn't make myself push it open. I heard him talking to Ryan. "I used to love Evelyn like crazy. I would've given her the stars if I could. I couldn't stand being away from her for even a moment." He paused. "But now, every time I think about those hands of hers touching all those corpses, I just... can't help it. It turns my stomach." Ryan gave a short laugh, his tone easy and unbothered. "Come on. You're just tired of her." Nathaniel turned his glass slowly in his hand and said nothing. Ryan drained his drink and slung an arm around Nathaniel's shoulder, grinning. "So what about that little secretary of yours, Clara? You gone there yet?" Nathaniel stayed quiet for a long moment, staring into his glass. Ryan's expression shifted, his voice climbing. "No way. Nate, you're serious?" Nathaniel finished his drink. "Not yet. But almost." Ryan's grin faded. He straightened up, his voice turning uncharacteristically sober. "Look, I'm telling you this as a friend: pull back. We all know what Evelyn used to mean to you. You defied your own mother for her. You would've thrown your life away for her. You finally got her, so don't throw it all away chasing something stupid. When you end up begging for her back, don't say I didn't warn you." Nathaniel set his empty glass on the table and let out a short, dismissive laugh. "She gave the best ten years of her life to me. How many women do you think would actually let go?"