Fiona’s POV
I barely got the hang of what I saw.
The scene looped behind my closed eyes like a broken reel—Marian’s head thrown back, Jordan’s hands possessive and rough like they’ve been together for the longest period, the low growl of his voice that sent thrills down my spine. Every time I tried to push it away, it came back sharper, and more annoyingly ugly.
I tried to sleep through it, I really wanted to forget the scene. But sleep didn’t come easily. I tossed severely until the sheets were twisted around my legs, until the ache between my thighs from earlier blended with the nausea in my stomach. Thought ran through my head whether Jalen already knew, whether he’d always known, whether I was the only fool who still believed their marriage was just cold. I picked up my phone
