Page 37 of Morally Corrupt

"Bianca… I…" he starts, but then he shakes his head. He takes a few tentative steps and then suddenly closes the distance and throws his arms around me.

"Forgive me." His arms are like a fortress around my body, holding me almost too tightly, but I embrace the possession.

"Please, tell me what's wrong," I whisper, my eyes tearing a little. If there's one weakness I have in this world, it's the man in front of me.

"Shh… It's all my fault. I'm so sorry for treating you like that. It's on me. I took out my frustrations on you." He still doesn't let me go.

"Theo… I didn't mind the sex. But the way you behaved afterward… It was like you couldn't stand the sight of me."

"No." He shakes his head fervently against me. "Never you. I was disgusted with myself. I took you like an animal."

My mouth seeks his jaw, and I pepper kisses all along his face.

"It was new, but… I liked it. We should do it again."

He accepts my kisses, breathing deeply.

"We're okay, no?" I ask again, unable to help myself. Something feels off, and I don't like it one bit.

"Yes, sweet." He finally shifts his head and gives me a kiss on my forehead. "Let's go to bed."

"Okay," I immediately agree, food and everything else forgotten.

He takes my hand and leads me to our room. I take off my robe and watch as he unbuttons his shirt and then takes off his pants. Lifting the cover, he nestles inside and holds his arms out for me. I go willingly, purring when I feel his naked skin against my own.

"I love you, Theo," I whisper as I huddle even closer to his warmth. I want to melt into him, knowing that if we indeed became one, he'd never be able to leave me. He would be mine. Utterly and completely mine. That's my last thought before falling asleep, but not before I hear him.

"I love you, B, more than anything."

13

THEO

The next morning, we don't talk anymore about what happened last night, about my abysmal behavior, or that I'd gotten shit-faced drunk when I rarely even drink.

Only when I get to work do I think clearly about what happened and my suspicions regarding Bianca's whereabouts. I get progressively pissed at myself for letting my insecurities get the best of me when I don't have any definitive proof she's having an affair. There has to be an explanation for her behavior these past few months, right? I don't want to accuse her of something and break our trust, or worse, see the disappointment in her eyes.

As much as I try to tell myself there has to be an explanation and that she isn't cheating, I can't help but still chew on it even hours later when Marcel comes to talk to me about a case.

He sits in the chair across from me, flipping through some documents. His perfectly put-together looks just emphasize my own wrecked state. He suddenly stops and looks at me pensively.

"Did you ask Bianca about the hotel?" he eventually asks.

"No," I mumble and continue to look at the files in my hand. I don't want to lie to Marcel, but I also don't want to talk to anyone about my and Bianca's problems. It isn't as if I don't trust Marcel. He's been my friend through thick and thin. We'd met at college and had immediately clicked, becoming fast friends. But we rarely talk about women. Marcel's love life is a mystery I'm not ready to crack. He seems too interested in my own, however, as he continues.

"Do you really think she's cheating on you?" I finally raise my eyes to meet his, and he has an incredulous look on his face, as if I'm a fool to even consider it.

"I don't know anymore. I got drunk last night and lashed out at her. Lucky she's a sweetheart, and she forgave me. But damn," I groan.

"I know, man." He threads his hand through his hair and sighs. "Look, I know I'm probably intruding… but I know Bianca, too. She'd never cheat on you."

"I'd never thought she'd cheat either but… there have been some suspicious things."

"Like what?"

"Her lying about where she is, missing work. I don't know what's going on, and she's never even hinted at problems at work or with other friends. I honestly don't know."

"Ask her!"

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