By the Time I Regretted, It Was Over

Every time my husband brought his secretary into the bedroom, he made me kneel at the bedside and wait—like a servant awaiting orders.

If the secretary fumbled or hesitated, he'd coldly gesture to me.

"Show her how it’s done," he'd say.

So I did. Step by humiliating step.

I waited quietly until they were finished, then rose to serve them tea and water as if nothing had happened.

One night, Alaric gripped my neck tightly.

"Aren’t you jealous?"

I calmly shook my head. I even laid out the contraceptives for them in advance, making sure everything was in order.

He snapped.