I kept struggling, pulling at my hands and cussing out as Mark pulled me to the hallway, right beside the male section restroom. I stumbled after him, unable to keep up with his pace in my heels.
Even in my wildest dream, I wouldn't have thought I might run into him here. I mean, in our three years of unfortunate marriage, I could count the number of times on the fingers of one hand I had seen him elsewhere apart from home. I had assumed he was always at work then recently, I concluded that he was either at work or in some fancy hotel f*****g my sister.
"Mark, what is wrong with you?" I hit his fingers wrapped around my wrist with my free hand, "Let go of my hand."
He didn't say anything, he just stormed ahead, his back rigid.
Ever since I proposed the divorce, he seemed to h
