Another six weeks later, I was more into my regret and longing than I’d ever been. I knew now that Preston was deliberately taking the parties away from me. He didn’t have to say so, I knew by his actions. If we went to one of the soirees, it was only to watch. Sometimes Preston played, but I never did.
In front of my face, he continued to court Daisy. He brought her to our home, where I was made to watch his slow seduction. I found them upstairs one night—I’d been diverted by a phone call; when I finally arrived on their scene, he was stripping her clothes away, and his own, Daisy sassily looking at me with an impish grin before throwing her head back like a trampy actress. He kissed her nakedness, her small, taut breasts, the pointy n*****s, and her belly, moving downward. He was on hi
