Diana
I wakeup, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
The bed beside me is empty and cold.
Where did Anthony go?
Has he ditched me and made a run for it?
Anxiety bubbles in my chest as I glance around the room.
My gaze lands on a folded note on the bedside table.
I snatch it up, my fingers trembling.
Diana,
Your husband is helping Jake with the morning chores. I'm downstairs, dearie.
-M
Relief floods through me, easing the tension in my shoulders.
Of course he's helping the old man.
Where else would he be?
I peer out the window and spot Anthony hauling bales of hay, his tanned, muscular arms flexing with each movement.
A bead of sweat trickles down his neck, disappearing into the collar of his shirt.
God, I think to myself. He looks so hot.
An image of him doing the same chores
